


The Labyrinth of London: Two Weddings and a Murder?

by FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise



Series: The Labyrinth of London [26]
Category: Labyrinth (1986), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Attempted Murder, Dancing, Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Murder, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Sherlock Being Sherlock, The Sign of Three Spoilers, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-24 09:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1600745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise/pseuds/FarGreenCountrySwiftSunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jareth and Sarah are happily married while John and Mary are on their way to domestic bliss. Sherlock is trying to find his place in these changing dynamics. Of course, what’s a wedding without a little murder? J/S. JAM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I: Planning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Thin White Sleuth](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/49520) by Pika-la-Cynique. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Almighty Disclaimer   
> Oh Moffat and Gatiss and Thompson,   
> Henson and Doyle,   
> To you belongs all the characters   
> And none so for me!
> 
> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

It was the morning of New Year’s Day and Sherlock was banging on the door of 221B. “Open up.”

The door was finally answered by an irate Jareth. “I just went to sleep ten minutes ago. What do you want Sherlock?”

Sherlock sniffled. “You aren’t answering your phone. Lestrade has a case and he said I’m too sick. I thought Sarah said you needed to wear a sheet around the flat.”

Jareth ruffled his hair before growling, “Bloody hell.” He slammed the door in Sherlock’s face.

Sherlock blew his nose. “That wasn’t nice.”

&%&%&%

Sherlock knocked on the door of 221B again a few minutes later. Sarah opened the door this time. She stuck her messy hair up into her red and white striped hat. “What do you need Sherlock?”

“No tea,” Sherlock said.

“Alright. Come in. We are going to leave in a second,” Sarah said as she motioned for Sherlock to come in.

“Thanks,” Sherlock said as he shuffled over to the kitchen for a cuppa, “Jareth is grumpy this morning.”

“Hmmm…” was all Sarah said. She had a goofy grin on her face as she looked over at Jareth adjusting his suit jacket in the mirror.

“I know he doesn’t like to be woken up, but he generally answers his phone,” Sherlock said, “I mean it is odd that he would snipe about a case and… oh bloody hell. I am sick if I missed that. Terribly sorry to intrude. I’ll just leave now.”

“Jareth and I are leaving. You’re fine,” Sarah said.

“No it’s not,” Jareth growled.

“Husband, book a honeymoon and then you can whine about work interrupting us,” Sarah said.

Before Sherlock could ask the obvious question, Jareth said, “Oberon was killed by Titania; the Seelie and Unseelie Courts now control the Underground; Sarah and I got married; in a year and a day I will be Goblin King again; and that’s what you missed on _Glee_.” 

Sarah set off one of the poppers she had saved from the night before. “Happy New Year!”

Sherlock looked down at his tea and then up at Sarah. “I need something a little stronger than this.”

&%&%&%

Sarah rested her head against Jareth’s chest as they took a taxi to the crime scene. Jareth was playing with a lock of Sarah’s hair. “Do you want a wedding ring, precious?”

“I have your favor. I don’t need anything else,” Sarah said, smiling.

“I asked if you wanted it, not that you needed it,” Jareth said.

“Only if you get one too,” Sarah said.

“Deal,” Jareth said.

“You just want to go shopping.”

“You know me so well.”

&%&%&%

The newly married couple came home a few hours later after chasing a mad clown around London to find Sherlock sorting through newspapers in 221C. “Uh… I’ll be… um… I’m looking. I promise,” Sherlock said.

Sarah blinked a few times. “Looking for what?”

“You are not moving out Sherlock,” Jareth said.

“Moving out? Sherlock, you are not moving out just because Jareth and I got married,” Sarah said, “221 Baker Street is your home.”

Sherlock looked up and ruffled his hair. “It might be awkward and…”

“If the door is locked, do not try to make your way in unless it is a non-Scotland Yard emergency,” Jareth said, “If Scotland Yard calls and I do not answer, knock.”

“And no deductions on our sex lives, okay?” Sarah said.

Sherlock made a face. “God, I don’t want to know. I mean, I’ll know, but I have no desire to talk about it.”

&%&%&%

A few days later, John, Mary, Jareth, Sarah, and Sherlock went out to dinner at a high end restaurant.

“You are just going to have a civil ceremony, then?” John asked before taking a sip of wine.

“And a party afterwards,” Sarah said.

“Lots of dancing,” Jareth said.

“And I am getting at least one dance with each of you,” Sarah said, pointing at the other couple and Sherlock.

“As long as you do not mind your feet getting stomped on,” John said.

“Sherlock can dance. I’m sure you can,” Sarah said.

“Sherlock can dance?” John said.

“Very well, actually,” Jareth said.

“Really?” Mary said.

“Never really comes up in crime work but, um, you know, I live in hope of the right case,” Sherlock said.

“We almost had one though,” Jareth said.

“So close that time,” Sherlock said.

“What happened?” Mary asked.

“There was a killer on the loose at a dance company,” Sherlock said, “He was going to attack next at the charity ball given by the company. Very sloppy work. We figured it out after a couple of hours. We almost went undercover at the party.”

“Who did it?” Sarah asked.

“A ballerina’s father who lost his mind. He was trying to cover up an affair he was having,” Jareth said, “He was murdering them by bludgeoning them with a crowbar from his work. He had a tendency to aim for…”

“Thank God the food is here,” John said.

&%&%&%

“I still don’t understand it,” Sherlock said as he, Jareth, and Sarah returned to Baker Street in a taxi, “I get why you two had to do it, but honestly, two people who currently live together are about to attend church, have a party, go on a short holiday, and then carry on living together. What’s big about that?

“That’s not the big deal, Sherlock,” Sarah said.

“Than what is?” Sherlock said.

“The vows,” Jareth said.

“An archaic religious and/or property matter,” Sherlock said.

“Not always,” Jareth said.

“It is a way for a couple to say to each other, ‘I will be there for you no matter what’. That couple’s family and friends come out to show their support for that vow. It’s an act of love by all involved,” Sarah said.

“And you two are having another wedding because most of your friends weren’t there for the first one,” Sherlock said.

“Yes,” Jareth said, “And it is an excuse to dance.”

Sherlock thought for a moment. “It still doesn’t make sense.”

Sarah laughed. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to make sense to you completely. The only thing you need to understand, Sherlock, is if you want to support John and Mary.”

“Well, yes,” Sherlock said.

“Then you will go to that wedding and support them,” Sarah said.

&%&%&%

Later that night, Sarah traced patterns over Jareth’s bare chest as he was falling asleep. “Jareth, what will I do… when you’re king again?”

“Rule by my side,” Jareth said as he adjusted the pillow behind his head.

“What does that mean though?” Sarah asked.

“Whatever you want it to be,” Jareth said, “That is one of the few benefits of ruling: you make your own schedule.”

Sarah sat up and leaned on one elbow so she could look Jareth in the eye. “What were Joanna’s duties as queen?”

“You’re not her. Each ruler makes their own choices based on what they want.” Jareth stroked Sarah’s face. “What do you want?”

“You,” Sarah said without hesitation.

Jareth smirked. “Well that is good to know. What else?”

“Children. Ours, I mean. Not just those who are wished away.”

“Definitely.”

Sarah bit her lip as she thought. “To be useful,” she finally said.

“Then you will be,” Jareth said. He pulled Sarah down to kiss her. “You will be a wondrous queen, precious.”

&%&%&%

A few weeks later, John came to 221 Baker Street to talk to Sherlock. Jareth was composing at the piano while Sarah was at work. Sherlock ran an experiment with an eyeball he was holding with tweezers and a blowtorch hooked up to the oven in the kitchen of 221B. John came into the kitchen and saw Sherlock in his dressing gown and safety glasses.

“Busy?” John asked.

The detective sighed. “Just occupying myself. Sometimes it’s so hard not to be smoking.” The eyeball fell into Sherlock’s cup of tea.

“I offered you something to do,” Jareth said.

“I am not doing you twos laundry, Jareth. Sarah said you had to do it yourself,” Sherlock said.

“Mind if I interrupt?” John said.

Sherlock put aside the tweezers. “Be my guest. Tea?”

“Er, no,” John said, “So. The big question… The best man.”

“The best man?” Sherlock said.

“What do you think?” John said.

“Billy Kincaid,” Sherlock said instantly.

Jareth covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

“Sorry, what?” John said.

“Billy Kincaid, the Camden Garrotter. Best man I ever knew. Vast contributions to charity, never disclosed. Personally managed to save three hospitals from closure and ran the best and safest children’s homes in north England. Yes, every now and again there’d be some garrottings, but stacking up the lives saved against the garrottings, on balance I’d say...”

“For my wedding!” John interrupted, “For me. I need a best man.”

“Oh, right,” Sherlock said.

“Maybe not a garrotter,” Jareth said.

“Shut up,” John and Sherlock said at the same time.

“Gavin?” Sherlock asked.

“Who?” John said.

“Gavin Lestrade? He’s a man and good at it,” Sherlock said.

Jareth did laugh this time. 

“It’s Greg. And he’s not my best friend,” John said.

Jareth inwardly cheered for Sherlock.

“Oh, Mike Stamford, I see. Well, he’s nice, um, though I’m not sure how well he’d cope with all...”

John interrupted again. “No, Mike’s great, but he’s not my best friend. Look, Sherlock, this is the biggest and most important day of my life. No, it is! It is, and I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world.”

“Yes,” Sherlock said. He was waiting for John to explain who those people were.

“Mary Morstan... and... you.”

Sherlock completely froze. For several minutes, Sherlock just stared at John.

“Sherlock?” John said.

Sherlock continued staring. Jareth started playing the Jeopardy theme on the piano.

“That’s getting a bit scary now,” John said, “Did I break him?”

“Probably,” Jareth said, “I did tell you, Sherlock. You didn’t believe me.”

Sherlock blinked rapidly before saying, “So, in fact... You, you mean...”

“Yes,” John said.

“I’m your... best ...”

“...man,” John said.

“...friend?” Sherlock said at almost the same time.

“Yeah, of course you are. Of course you’re my best friend,” John said.

Sherlock absent mindedly picked up the cup with the eyeball and took a sip.

“Well, how was that?” John said.

“Surprisingly okay,” Sherlock said as he remembered what was in the mug.

“So you’ll have to make a speech, of course,” John said.

Sherlock stared off blankly again. Jareth fell to the ground in a fit of laughter.

“You don’t get to laugh,” John said, “We are going to ask you and Sarah to be a part of the wedding party. You are going to be involved in this whether you want to or not.”

Jareth continued laughing. 

&%&%&%

“Who would have thunk it,” Sarah said to Mary, “Sherlock was secretly destined to be a wedding planner.”

Over the past few weeks, 221B had become a wedding planning headquarters. Besides being John’s best man, Sherlock was unofficially Jareth’s. Dante would sign the papers, but would be minimally involved with the wedding beyond designing the clothes. Sherlock had been practicing in secret a violin rendition of “As the World Falls Down” that he would play at the reception along with other duties he has assigned himself. Molly Hooper was Sarah’s maid of honor and was in charge of the Hen Night.

“I have the mock-up invitation ready,” Sherlock said to Mary and John. They huddled around the screen.

John pointed to his middle name. “Does it have to be on the invitation?”

Mary said, “It’s your name. It’s traditional.”

“It’s funny,” Sherlock said.

“Be grateful you have a middle name, John,” Jareth said, “My side of the invitation was rather bare.”

“We could have made it up,” Sherlock said.

Jareth said, “I already have one made up name. I don’t need another. The first one was disastrous enough, all thanks to Mycroft.”

“I am sure he was Just Kidding,” Sarah said.

&%&%&%

Dante arrived later that day to get a feel for what he would design for Jareth and Sarah’s wedding. Sherlock had been put in charge of putting down measurements while Jareth was sitting back and watching his nephew work. Mary sat next to Sarah while John puttered around the kitchen to make a pot of tea. The goblins were hanging about, quite happy to see their king’s brother.

“What color do you want, _Aunt_ Sarah?” Dante said as he spread out his sketches. He shooed away a goblin who was getting too handsy with his drawings.

“Brat,” Sarah said.

“Genetic,” Dante said.

“Peacock. You know a blue leaning towards the green scale just a tad,” Sarah said.

“Not a bad choice. A nice nod to Uncle Jareth’s narcissism,” Dante said.

“I am not narci… damn. A lie,” Jareth said.

Molly giggled as she entered the room. Dante put on a charming smile and went over to the new visitor.

“Hello, Dr. Hooper. I am Dante Rossetti.” He kissed Molly’s hand.

Molly giggled again. “You can just call me Molly.”

“Molly is a charming name,” Dante said.

“Stop it,” Jareth growled.

“Can’t I say hello?” Dante said.

“No,” Sherlock said firmly.

Dante sighed before looking at Molly cheerfully. “Since I am the best man and you are the maid of honor, may I have the first dance with you at the wedding?”

“Sure,” Molly said, “I forgot about that. I am sure Tom wouldn’t mind.”

“Tom?” Dante said.

“Her fiancé,” Jareth said with a smirk.

The goblins let out an “OOOOOOOOOOO” sound.

“Ah,” Dante said a bit crestfallen, “But no matter. May I say you are quite lovely, Molly, and that your Tom is a very lucky man for having such an intelligent and clever woman in his life?”

Molly tried not to blush. “Thank you.”

Dante smiled again. He pulled out a measuring tape, let it unroll, and then it began to measure Sarah on its own.

“Wow!” Mary said.

“You stole this from _Harry Potter_ , didn’t you?” Sarah asked.

“It was a clever idea,” Dante said before giving out measurements to Sherlock.

In less than ten minutes, everyone’s outfits were picked out, even with goblin interference. Dante gathered up his portfolio. “There. The measurements are all settled. I can make last minute alterations, so you lovely ladies do not have to go on those awful diets. Ugh. I am off to the God-forsaken colonies for Sarah’s siblings.” A paper fell out of Dante’s portfolio. “I hope you realize that I hate that country so much that I would blast apart that damn continent if it were not for Canada.”

“You really are too harsh on America. You forget that England is to Europe what America is to the world. We got our jerkishness from dear old Mummy,” Sarah said.

“This is gorgeous,” Mary said as she held up the drawing Dante had dropped, “I can’t believe you drew this. It’s like my dream dress.”

“Yes. I haven’t quite found the right… person. Mary, you have a wedding coming up, don’t you?” Dante said with a smile.

“Yes,” Mary said.

“If it isn’t too much of an imposition, do you mind if I make up a mock-up dress for you to see if you would like it?” Dante said.

“I would be delighted,” Mary said.

“Good. If you do like it, consider it a gift from me. I do have a weakness for lovely ladies,” Dante said as he smirked again.

“He does realize I broke his uncle’s nose, doesn’t he?” John said.

“Which is why I am leaving now,” Dante said as he did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *crawls out of the Abyss* I survived finals.
> 
> This one is going to have a different set-up from the episode because of how much of the episode is based on Sherlock, John, Mary, and their changing relationships. Also, the way the episode is set up, though gorgeous on film, is hard to translate into prose.


	2. Chapter II: Ladies’ Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

Jareth was looking over a case file while Sarah applied her eye make-up in front of the mirror in the living room of 221B before her bachelorette party.

“Why is it called hen night?” Sarah asked.

“Hens are all female just as all stags are male,” Jareth said, “You will not be…”

“It will not be a _Magic Mike_ night, Jareth. Molly promised,” Sarah said.

Joanna suddenly appeared in the reflection of the mirror. “I have not found anyone who goes by the name of Mike to be particularly magical.”

Sarah almost poked her eye out with her mascara. “What are you doing here Joanna? I mean, it’s nice to see you, but I thought you were too busy for a social call.”

“I am,” Joanna said. She turned to her brother. “I will need your wife for a short time. She will be returned before her friends arrive.”

“Why?” Jareth asked. 

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blond head about,” Joanna said.

“I agree with Sarah. This is not a social call,” Jareth said, “What do you want?”

“I have been asked to request Sarah’s presence for something of a sensitive nature. Her skills as a nurse are called upon,” Joanna said, “I cannot tell you who or what, just that she has been requested.”

“No,” Jareth said.

“Yes,” Sarah said. She finished applying her lipstick. “Jareth, do you really think that your sister would call upon me unless it was of the utmost importance?”

“No,” Jareth mumbled.

Sarah turned around and sat on the arm of Jareth’s chair. “I am being asked to come as a nurse. Someone is hurt and I have to help them.”

Jareth pouted. “I don’t like not knowing.”

“Sometimes we have to go out on a little faith,” Sarah said.

&%&%&%

As Joanna escorted Sarah through the High Court, Sarah said, “I don’t like not knowing either. Who needs me? I am good, but I am not that good. My skill set is mainly humans with some goblin and Fae physiology.”

“You know how doctors and such take an oath to do harm to none?” Joanna said.

“Yes,” Sarah said.

“The healers of the Underground have no such oath. That combined with a desire for you to sympathize with her, she has requested you,” Joanna said.

“Titania. Of course,” Sarah said, “I really thought she wouldn’t want to see me again except for in my coffin.”

“She is aware of your growing power,” Joanna said.

“Me?” Sarah said, “I am among the more senior nurses at St. Bart’s in the magic division. That’s it.”

“You are married to a man who will soon rule one of the most important points of the Underground and who is also the brother to the Seelie High Queen. You have more power in the Underground than you realize. Jareth honestly can care less what his position is as long as his family and kingdom are safe. You need to see further than him to protect what you two do care about,” Joanna said.

With a wave of her hand, double doors to Joanna’s left opened. It was a long corridor made of stone lit only by electric lights in converted gas lamps. After walking for several minutes, Joanna waved another door open. It was a plainly furnished, stone-walled room with small windows near the ceiling. Titania was lying on a four poster bed with a healer and his assistant. 

“This is really unnecessary,” the healer said.

“I am indulging a pregnant woman’s whims,” Joanna said as she motioned to Titania.

“Titania,” Sarah said as she washed her hands in the in the room’s sink, “I am not trained for this. I specialize in combat, ER, and general care. I do not have special knowledge about pregnancy. Do you understand?”

Titania glared at the healer. “I understand, Champion.”

Sarah came to Titania’s bed side. “How far along are you?”

“Five months,” Titania said, “Something is wrong.”

“She is fine,” the healer said.

“What do you mean something is wrong?” Sarah asked.

Titania shrugged. “I feel wrong. I am swelling wrong. I have awful headaches.”

“May I please see the blood tests and check-ups, sir?” Sarah said.

“There is no need,” the healer said.

“Bullocks,” Sarah said, “Give me her medical records now.”

&%&%&%

Sometime later, Sarah spoke to the healers out of earshot of Titania. “From what I can gather, she has preeclampsia.”

“A what?” the healer said.

“Oh my god. Do you know anything about pregnancy? The only reason I can even remotely guess what is wrong with her is because I watch _Call the Midwife_ ,” Sarah said.

“Sarah,” Joanna said, “Fae rarely have issues in their pregnancy. Probably the only reason Titania is having this is because her grandmother was human.”

“What is to be done?” the healer said.

“Bed rest. She will need medical testing and maybe some medicine. She needs someone who has dealt with this before. If she is not treated, she and the baby may very well die,” Sarah said.

Sarah could see the healer think over the last part for less than honorable reasons.

“I am sure the Goblin Kingdom will be quite displeased to find out a child has died from a treatable condition,” Sarah said.

That made the healer stand up straighter before bowing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I will make arrangements,” Joanna said.

Sarah went back to Titania and stood by the edge of the bed. “Ma’am, you are going to need more testing, but we are fairly certain that you just need bed rest.”

Titania sighed. “It is not as if I have much else to do. How is your… husband?”

“He is content,” Sarah said.

“Have fun keeping him that way,” Titania said.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Sarah said.

Titania rubbed her forehead from the headache she was having. “Rumpelstiltskin is a child with basic whims that a fool like Joanna can keep under control. Jareth is much like Oberon and has more complex… appetites. The sooner you realize that, the better off you will be.”

“Jareth is not like Oberon,” Sarah said.

Titania smiled. “It doesn’t matter. You chose him long, long ago when you told that story to your brother. You are stuck with what you wished for.”

Sarah tried not to wince. “I hope what I have recommended will help you, ma’am. I will continue with twice monthly check-ups. Good evening.”

&%&%&%

Sarah sat in the long hallway and focused on not hyperventilating. Joanna knelt down next to Sarah.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” Joanna said.

“I… told a story… my magic is story based and…”

Joanna thought for a moment and said, “Oh. ‘But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl.’ That.”

“I… it can’t be. I thought…”

“Sarah, you did not cast a spell on Jareth,” Joanna said.

“How do you know for certain?” Sarah said.

Joanna held up a finger for each point she listed. “First, love spells are temporary. They wear off within a year and a day at their strongest. Second, they take more power than about ninety-seven percent of magic users can conjure. You have rather minor magic, Sarah. Third, and most importantly, do you really think I would have allowed someone to live who cast such a spell on my brother?”

Sarah shook her head. “I just…”

“My brother loves you, Sarah,” Joanna said, “He is a bit of a cad, but that part of him has been growing smaller since before you were even born.”

“He always needs a new puzzle. He is going to be bored soon,” Sarah said.

Joanna laughed. “You may fascinate him, Sarah, but you are not a puzzle to be put aside. You are far too stubborn to accept that fate.” Joanna said the next part quietly. “Titania made her choice to look away from Oberon’s affairs, but you would never do that. That is part of the reason Jareth chose you. You hold him accountable. And besides, he knows I will deal with him if he ever harms you, Sarah. I quite like you, which very few people can say.”

Sarah nodded. 

“Titania is trying to chip away at you, Sarah. I know she said she would not kill you, but there are other ways to destroy a person. She has been trying to do the same to me for over three centuries,” Joanna said.

&%&%&%

Sarah returned to 221B less than five minutes after she had left. Jareth looked up from his seat and smiled at Sarah. “Precious, how was your trip?”

She went over to Jareth and kissed him. He pulled Sarah down to him so she was straddling him.

“What’s wrong?” Jareth asked.

Sarah tangled his hair around her hands. “I don’t want to share you.”

“I don’t want to share you, so that works out quite well,” Jareth said.

Sarah rested her head against Jareth’s. “I love you. I really do.”

“And I you,” Jareth said, “Precious, who were you sent to help? Who upset you so?”

“Confidentiality. I can’t tell you. Joanna calmed me down. I wasn’t hurt. I just… I’m being an insecure, jealous idiot. That’s all.”

“You are mine and I am yours, Sarah,” Jareth said, “Nothing will ever change that. Anyone who thinks or says otherwise is denying the obvious.”

&%&%&%

Sarah knocked back a shot of tequila with lime the moment she, Mary, and Molly entered the bar. “You certainly don’t waste time,” Mary said.

“You don’t drink,” Molly said.

“I’m making an exception tonight,” Sarah said.

“Are things between you and Jareth okay?” Mary said.

“Jareth is wonderful. That’s not the problem. I just got a bit shaken up by something someone said,” Sarah said, “I know that person is just trying to hurt me and I should ignore it, but it worked.”

“Let’s get you something a little milder. How does a margarita sound?” Molly said.

“That sounds great,” Sarah said.

The women got their drinks and sat at a tall table. “So, what are the plans tonight?” Sarah asked.

“We are going to have drinks, go to a show, and then go out for some late night desserts,” Molly said.

“What show?” Sarah asked.

“You know how I said it wouldn’t involve naked men? Well, I only told half the truth. There will be a man half-naked at one point,” Molly said as she smiled, “I got us tickets to _Coriolanus_.”

“You, Molly, are magnificent,” Sarah said.

“Jareth said that about me once,” Molly said, “You two think a lot alike.”

“How are you two doing, really?” Mary said.

Sarah smiled. “I love him and he loves me. We are dealing with a lot of changes and waiting for others, but I have never been so… joyful. It’s ridiculous good, really.”

“Sex is good then?” Mary said.

Sarah choked on her drink. “I’m not talking about that.”

“Oh, so it’s bad,” Molly teased.

“No. No. It’s fantastic. I mean, that horrible fanfiction I’ve read talks about ‘clever tongue and clever fingers’, but oh does it apply to Jareth,” Sarah said. She covered her mouth and began to blush. “I am not drinking anything with alcohol ever again.”

“I think you should drink more,” Mary said.

“We haven’t toasted,” Molly said to change the subject. She raised her glass, “To happiness.”

“To happiness,” the other two said.

“So, Mary, what’s this I hear about you working full time at the bakery?” Sarah said.

&%&%&%

Later that night, Sarah found Jareth and John cleaning up a scratch on Sherlock’s face while the goblins and Hoggle watched and were passing around their bets.

“Before you ask, I’m fine,” Sherlock said.

“What happened?” Sarah asked.

Jareth answered, “We were throwing knives and…”

“When did you decide knife throwing was a good idea?” Sarah said.

“We did solve a murder!” Jareth said enthusiastically.

Sarah smiled as she had a thought. _My husband, when left with nothing else but his clever mind, decided to be a detective so he could save people. I think that says more about his character than anything Titania could ever say._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Because everyone has doubts and I wanted to see different interactions with just the ladies.


	3. Chapter III: On Top of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

It was a few days before the wedding. Sarah and Jareth were sitting on a sofa in a hotel lobby waiting for Sarah’s family to arrive from the airport.

“My family will meet your family,” Sarah said.

“Yes,” Jareth said, “A horrifying thought.”

“I mean, what will they talk about? I haven’t even thought about it. ‘Ah, yes, my shop is doing quite well. How are your dealings with a murderous Fae queen going?’”

“Please, Sarah. They will be too focused on trying to find out as many horrible things about the two of us that business dealings will be put off for a few days,” Jareth said.

“How reassuring,” Sarah said dryly.

Jareth tilted Sarah’s head up. “You worry too much about these things.”

“What if they hate each other?” Sarah said.

“Then that is their problem. My family likes you and your family likes me. Surely there is something they can agree upon,” Jareth said. He whispered in her ear. “Even if they do not, my family and I will never stop you from spending time with those you love.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Sarah said.

“That was the only thing you truly feared, precious,” Jareth said, “I know you well enough for that.”

Sarah shrugged. “Maybe.”

Jareth cupped Sarah’s face and kissed her. After a few moments, a person cleared his throat. The couple looked up and saw Mr. Williams standing before them, glaring at Jareth.

“Every time. Every single time,” Mr. Williams said.

“Hi, Daddy,” Sarah said. She hugged her father.

“Hi, princess,” Robert said, “Karen is checking in with the kids.”

Jareth stood up and shook his father-in-law’s hand. “Mr. Williams.”

“Jareth,” Robert said before speaking to Sarah, “What are the plans today?”

“We were going to take you to the British Museum and get a back-stage tour from our former clients, Andy and Soo Lin. Plus, we get to see their baby. She looks so cute,” Sarah said, “And for dinner we are going back to 221B. Mrs. Hudson is going to make you an English supper with Yorkshire pudding and all the fixings. Jareth’s various family members may or may not be in attendance.”

“May or may not?” Robert said.

“They are very busy. A lot of people rely on them,” Sarah said.

&%&%&%

Sometime before dinner, the group arrived at 221B. Noise could be heard from Mrs. Hudson kitchen. A goblin was kicked out the door.

“You lot aren’t allowed in here,” Mrs. Hudson scolded.

“FOOD!” the goblin cried. Several more goblins popped their heads out of the banister in agreement.

“You are not allowed in Mrs. Hudson flat,” Jareth said.

“FOOD!”

“Upstairs. I’ll give you some sweets if you go right now,” Sarah said.

With a cheer, the goblins scurried up to 221B. Mrs. Hudson huffed. “You can’t keep bribing them, dearie.”

“I am too tired to kick them,” Sarah said. 

Jareth covered his mouth as he tried not to laugh at Mr. and Mrs. Williams’ faces. “Those are… goblins?” Karen said.

“Yep. Aren’t they cute little brats?” Sarah said as she made her way upstairs.

“You don’t look like them,” Robert said to Jareth.

Jareth grinned and followed Sarah. “Goblins come in all shapes and sizes. You can tell by our love of mischief and our sharp teeth.”

Over the next few minutes, the Williams’ children helped Sarah pass out baked goods and candies to the goblins. Karen and Robert spoke to the less rambunctious goblins, who seemed quite eager to learn more about the Labyrinth’s Champion. Just as soon as Sarah had sat down, Joanna strolled into the room wearing gold flats, plain jeans, and a red sweater sewn with gold thread. 

“Hello, Jay,” Joanna said. She turned to the goblins and said, “Shouldn’t you be with your King?”

“FOOD!” the goblins said.

“You’ll spoil your supper. Out with you,” Joanna said.

There were groans of protest, but the goblins poofed away one by one. Joanna smiled at the Williams’ family. “Don’t mind them. I am Joanna, Jareth’s older sister.”

Before Karen and Robert could move, Joanna sat in a dining room chair to face them on the sofa. “I must say, Toby does seem to be as… creative as Jareth was as a teenager, only a bit more grounded. Probably some good sense from the two of you has done that.”

It was slow going into easy conversation as Karen and Robert knew of Joanna’s place in the Underground, but was helped by Sophie and Emily’s curiosity.

“You have very pretty hair,” Emily said.

“Thank you,” Joanna said.

Sophie elbowed Emily and whispered, “You said you would ask her.”

“You ask her,” Emily whispered.

“Yes, you may braid my hair,” Joanna said, “I do have a daughter. She used to play with my hair a lot, so I don’t mind.”

Emily and Sophie giggled. Emily began playing with Joanna’s hair immediately while Sophie went to Sarah’s room to pick up hair ties and pins.

“Your daughter is the Goblin King, right?” Emily said.

“Yes, and she is a good one,” Joanna said, “Have you met her?”

“No. I’ve met Dante. I’ve met the goblins lots of times. They don’t come around as much. While Jareth was… gone and a little after, they didn’t play with us at all,” Emily said.

“They had to stay with their king. The goblins are protected by their ruler during times of war,” Joanna said, “But now it is over and we can celebrate happy things like my brother’s marriage.”

“And we get to go out more,” Dante said as he came up the stairs, “Hello, Emily. Hello, Sophie. Your dresses are in the spare room and we will need to do a final fitting before supper.”

“But we are braiding your Mom’s hair,” Sophie said.

“That can wait until later, when we have more time. It sounds like Mrs. Hudson is almost done anyway. Hurry up,” Joanna said.

&%&%&%

Mrs. Hudson and Joanna discussed at dinner Jareth’s behavior over the years that he was under their care. Dante was thankfully silent about Jareth’s exploits as an adult. Robert told stories of when Sarah was small and how she would end up in various different childhood adventures.

“Dante and Toby can take care of the dishes,” Joanna said, smirking, “No arguing.”

The group sans the two boys went back upstairs to find Sherlock searching through Jareth’s music. “Ah, Mr. Holmes,” Joanna said, “Why did you not come dine with us?”

Sherlock glanced up at Joanna. “Had fish and chips earlier with John. Just looking for some sheet music.”

Joanna raised an eyebrow.

“Sherlock, please stay,” Sarah said.

“I’ll stay for coffee,” Sherlock sighed, “I still don’t know why my brother finds you terrifying, Joanna.”

The Seelie Queen laughed. “That is because, unlike you, I can make his life miserable indeed.”

“What does the elder Mr. Holmes do?” Karen said.

“He occupies a minor position in the British government,” Joanna said.

“He is the British government,” Sherlock, Sarah, and Jareth said at the same time.

There was a “whoosh” sound and a swirl of gold glitter. The Goblin King stood in the middle of the living room in a black business suit and gold high heels. “Sorry I’m late. For some reasons, the goblins wanted dinner because the King’s Mum said they would get some.”

“Oh, those poor dears looked so hungry,” Joanna said as she grinned.

“They eat more than Dante did when he was a teenager,” Christiana said with a sigh, “Oh, right.” She cleared her throat. “I am Christiana Rossetti, Goblin King and Lord of the Labyrinth, daughter of Rumpelstiltskin, High King of the Seelie Court, and Joanna, High Queen of the Seelie Court. Oh, are you two braiding for all the ladies? That looks marvelous.”

Jareth banged his head against the closed piano lid. “You are worse than Sherlock!”

“Hey!” Sherlock and Christiana said at the same time.

“I believe what he is trying to say is that you are as bad as Jareth is,” Mrs. Hudson said.

“Not helping, Mrs. Hudson,” Jareth said.

“I missed teasing Chrissy?” Dante said when he arrived with Toby. 

Christiana said, “If you tease me, I will tease you, Dante. You are far more disreputable than I am.”

Dante rolled his eyes and sat near the fireplace. Joanna and Christiana were on the floor while Emily and Sophie braided their hair. Sherlock was in Jareth’s seat while Mrs. Hudson’s was in Sarah’s. Mr. and Mrs. Williams sat on the sofa while Sarah and Jareth sat on the piano bench.

“Mum, can I please embarrass Uncle Jareth?” Dante asked.

“That is still disconcerting,” Robert said.

“What is?” Jareth’s family said.

“You and Jareth look the same age,” Robert said as he motioned to Dante and Jareth. He then motioned to Joanna and Christiana. “And you two look the same age.”

“It deals with that our aging slows considerably when we stop developing,” Christiana said, “Women generally stop in their early twenties. Men in their early thirties. There is still some aging afterwards for Fair Folk, but they don’t really hit old age except for the last thirty or so years of their life.”

Jareth saw a brief moment of concern flash in Robert’s eyes, but he remained cordial. Mrs. Hudson puttered into the kitchen to make coffee.

“So, how old are you?” Sophie asked Joanna.

“A little over three and a half centuries,” Joanna said, “I saw London rebuilt twice. Drank tea when it first made its mark on blessed English soil. Heard Mozart play when he was a child. He was a clever child, but a dull man. Beethoven was a far more interesting person, though a little difficult to speak with at times.”

Sherlock became slightly attentive at the prospect of a discussion on music instead of “polite” conversation, but was interrupted by a final guest.

“Good evening, Mrs. Hudson,” Rumpelstiltskin said after his sudden appearance in the kitchen.

“Good evening, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said with no surprise, “Would you take out the biscuits for everyone?”

“Of course, ma’am,” Rumpelstiltskin said. He took the tray of sweets and placed it on the dining table, showing that he was carrying a bag under his arm. “Good evening everyone. I had to retrieve a few items before I came here. Among them are presents.”

Rumpelstiltskin kissed his wife, which gave Dante, Christiana, and Jareth a chance to make gagging noises. “I am a married man, you dolts.”

“It’s still gross,” Dante said.

Rumpelstiltskin looked at the ceiling for a moment before looking at Mr. and Mrs. Williams, “Are all children this way?”

“Yes. They get squeamish even if we hold hands,” Karen said.

“Ew,” Emily, Sophie, and Toby said at the same time.

“Children are odd creatures,” Rumpelstiltskin said, “Odd creatures who like presents from my experience.”

Sophie and Emily instantly loved Rumpelstiltskin. They tied off the hair they were working on and rushed over to him. Sherlock reluctantly removed himself from his seat to let the Seelie High King sit down.

“Now, for Sarah’s sisters,” Rumpelstiltskin said. He pulled out two tissue wrapped packages. The girls found golden shawls. “That is for the wedding if you should become chilled. You can wear it as much as you like after that.”

“Is it made from silk?” Emily asked.

“Of a sort, yes,” Rumpelstiltskin said.

“It’s so soft,” Sophie said.

“Girls,” Karen said.

“Thank you,” the twins said. They began arranging the shawls in different ways.

Rumpelstiltskin then tossed a small package the size of a coaster to Toby. “My acquaintance says it will last three times as long as ordinary strings and almost never go out of tune.”

Toby looked inside the package and found it to be guitar strings. “Wow. Thanks. I was going to need more soon. I am constantly breaking them.”

“I guessed that. You are much like Jareth when he was younger. He was constantly breaking parts of the instruments he practiced on,” Rumpelstiltskin said, “Though that poor violin did not deserve to be tossed out of the tower.”

“The violin had it coming,” Jareth said.

Sherlock made a strangled noise of horror.

Lestrade came running up the stairs. “Oye. Sorry to break the party up, but I’ve got three bodies one of which is a selkie. Jareth, get off your arse and actually answer you phone for once.”

The twins giggled. Jareth and Sarah began to get themselves bundled up for the cool night.

“Ah. The little ones. Forget the lot of you were coming in today. Mr. and Mrs. Williams, pleasure to see you again. Majesties,” Lestrade said the last word with a nod of his head, “Goblin King, sorry, but I’m going to have to snatch your kinsman for a bit.”

“Perfectly alright, detective inspector,” Christiana said, “Will you be at the wedding? I might ask for a dance from you if that will not displease you.”

“Course I will. We need as many hecklers for Jareth as we can. Listening to him go on about how useless emotions were and all that and now he is getting all sentimental and married to a hopeless romantic,” Lestrade said.

“I’m not hopeless. Just a romantic,” Sarah said, “And he is worse than me.”

“Am n… damn. A lie,” Jareth said, which caused the twins to laugh harder. “Good-bye. Be back soon.”

“Come on. You’ll have plenty of time to chat with the family later. The wedding is only two days from now,” Lestrade said.

“You honestly do not know how weddings work, do you?” Sarah said as they made their way down the stairs.

Jareth faintly heard Rumpelstiltskin say, “Now that he is gone, we can get to the truly embarrassing stories.”

If not for Sarah’s tight grip on him, Jareth would have run back immediately.

&%&%&%

It was the night before the wedding and Sarah was going to spend the night with her family. Jareth pulled Sarah into an embrace. “I will see you tomorrow, precious.”

“I really don’t see the point in this. We’re already married,” Sarah said, “Besides, you have some good hair styling tips.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Complementing you,” Sarah said, “I’ll miss you.”

“No you won’t. You will be too busy with your sisters to miss me, and that is how it should be,” Jareth said.

&%&%&%

Jareth answered his phone at one in the morning. “Hello, Sarah.”

“If you tell anyone what I am about to ask you, I swear I will show everyone what I have for our M.A.D.”

Jareth sat up in his bed as he said half-teasingly, “Precious, I am glad to hear you feeling so adventurous, but unless you are completely alone, I think you will find that…”

“I am not asking for that! I swear, Jareth, your mind not only lives in the gutter, your brain rules it,” Sarah said.

“What is it you want, Sarah?” Jareth said.

“I just… I need to fall asleep while we are still on the phone. I need to hear you. I can’t sleep. I haven’t gone to bed without you since we got married and… it’s one of those things they do in stupid teen rom-coms and… it’s silly…”

“I don’t sleep well without you either, precious. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

&%&%&%

Shortly before the ceremony, Karen came to see Jareth. “Sarah looks beautiful. She misses you.”

Jareth smiled. “The first is always true of her and the second is true of me as well.”

“I need to tell you something, but I would rather Sarah not know,” Karen said.

Jareth raised a slanted eyebrow, but nodded his consent.

“I was not entirely sure of you marrying her. I know, I know. I am not as openly antagonistic as Robert can be, but it’s true. You are a bit… wild. I wasn’t sure you would just run off one day or hurt her. Seeing your sister and her husband, though… three hundred years and they still seem to be in love. Seeing as Rumpelstiltskin…” Karen giggled. “I can’t believe I am on a first name basis with fairy tale characters. But, I’m distracted. Seeing as Rumpelstiltskin is much like you and how he treats Joanna… I feel safe enough for you to take care of Sarah.”

Jareth looked at Karen with amazement. “Truly, I have underestimated you, Mrs. Williams, in all of our encounters. I will endeavor not to do so again.”

Karen smiled. “I am glad to hear that.”

“I can tell now where Sarah gets some of her… subtle but commanding presence from.”

Karen laughed and left to attend to Sarah.

&%&%&%

The wedding itself was unremarkable. Just a few close friends and family for a civil ceremony. The reception, however, was a different story entirely. After all, it was not every day that a former Goblin King married his Champion.

Jareth had shucked off his tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt as soon as they arrived at the reception site. He helped Sarah remove her netted veil. Her fifties style white dress with a blue sash was very Sarah, which pleased Jareth. It fit well with the somewhat casual atmosphere. It was a refurbished church that had been made into a sort of community center with a large lawn in the front and a bigger garden in the back. No one would “catch on fire” as Sarah would say.

“Jareth,” Sarah said softly, “The old man with an eye patch, was that…”

“Yes,” Jareth said.

“And the woman with the peacock feathers is…”

“Yes.”

“Hopefully her husband isn’t…”

“He’s not. Joanna made a fool of him once and he has learned not to meddle with our family since then.”

“LOKI! HERMES!” Sarah said at the sight of her poker buddies.

The two Tricksters grinned with equal mischief as they greeted the couple. “Now, really, she does get better with age,” Loki said.

“I heard you had two sisters,” Hermes said before being promptly punched in the stomach by Loki.

“They’re children,” Loki said.

“Sorry. Sorry. I thought they were around Sarah’s age. Sorry,” Hermes gasped.

“One moment,” Loki said, “Daughter! Stop flirting with young Tobias!” He turned to Sarah and Jareth. “There. That should solve many of your problems this evening. Well, problems of the more lasting sort. Mischief on the other hand…” He winked at the couple and made his way into the building. 

Sarah laughed which made Jareth smile even more.

“Are Sarah and Jareth going to be like this the whole time?” Sherlock whispered to Molly.

“Yes, Sherlock. People do like to smile at their own weddings,” Molly said.

&%&%&%

“Is everyone from the Underground here?” Jareth hissed at his sister when Sarah had left him to freshen up for the late lunch.

“I thought you liked parties,” Joanna said.

“I do, but this is not what Sarah wanted,” Jareth said.

“She wants you to be recognized as what you are,” Joanna said.

“As a glittery idiot?” Jareth said.

“As a king,” Joanna said, “Really, she thinks better of you then I ever have.”

Jareth laughed. “Sarah loves me, but she in no way thinks I am perfect.”

“I never said she did. She _believes in you_ , Jay. That is more valuable than any gift you have ever received. Treasure that,” Joanna said, “And besides, I think the size of the party shut up the first Mrs. Robert Williams long enough before she had to leave, even without knowing who the guests were. That was certainly convenient.”

&%&%&%

“What the bloody…” Jareth mumbled as he made his way out to the lawn, “What are you fools doing?”

A group of guests were standing in the front lawn where Toby and Sherlock were standing, ready to fence. “Ilmarinen, why did you bring these here? Sharp objects at a goblin wedding?”

Ilmarinen smiled. “It seemed like a bit of fun between lunch and cutting the cake.”

“Sarah will have…”

“…a fit,” Sarah interrupted, “If you are to behave like children, you will be treated as children. If you do not stop this now, there will be no cake for any of you.”

There was a groan from the group, but most immediately went back inside. Sherlock looked longingly at the rapier, but began to put it up for Ilmarinen. Toby, however, did not.

“Toby, now,” Sarah said.

“Oh, come on, this is the most fun I’ve had all day. No one is doing any magic because there are so many mundane people around. Weddings are the most boring thing on the planet,” Toby said.

“If you do not put up that sword, I will do it for you,” Sarah said.

Toby put his weapon free arm behind his back and took a fighting stance. “Make me.”

Toby had no idea what hit him. Sarah disarmed him and shoved him to the ground in one movement. “You were not even standing correctly,” Sarah said, “I know that and I have only done some fencing from drama camp. Go. Inside. Now.”

Jareth snickered behind his hand as Toby scrambled to stand up and rush back inside. Sarah stood up and brushed grass off her skirt. “Honestly. It’s like sometimes he forgets I was in the army.”

Sarah was pulled into Jareth’s arms and he kissed her thoroughly. “You are the most precious of gifts.”

“Knocking down teenage boys is hardly a gift. Well, maybe. You did think it was good idea to throw a snake at me,” Sarah said.

Jareth kept his arm around her shoulder as they walked back to the church. His other hand stroked Sarah’s jade favor. “Yes. I do not understand gifts properly, even when something more precious than jade is right in front of me.”

&%&%&%

“I thought he would show up in time for cake,” Sarah said as Mycroft approached the couple.

“Many blessings upon you both,” Mycroft said. He leaned against his umbrella.

“And many thanks,” Jareth said.

“I am glad you could come, Mr. Umbrella,” Sarah said.

Jareth could have sworn Mycroft almost smiled at the nickname he loathed.

“Look down you gods,/And on this couple drop a blessed crown,” Mycroft quoted, “Honor, riches, marriage blessing,/Love continuance, and increasing,/Hourly joys be still upon you!/Juno sings her blessings on you.”

“ _The Tempest_ ,” Sarah said, “It is one of my favorites, Mycroft. Thank you.”

“How accurate,” Jareth said, “We are having karaoke later.”

Sarah elbowed Jareth. “Would you like some cake, Mr. Umbrella?”

The British Government sighed. “I suppose I must.”

“Don’t worry. We will set you up so you can bug Sherlock,” Sarah said.

“Joy,” Mycroft said dryly. He then said in all seriousness, “There are no more cameras or listening devices within 221B. I thought it a fitting wedding present.”

“Oh, I shall definitely make use of that,” Sarah said.

Mycroft sat with his brother, ate his cake, and left. He did give another present of free membership for six months to a spa for Sarah’s use. According to his note, “Because you, Champion, must not murder your king because of how irritating he is to us all.”

&%&%&%

“I do appreciate this song more now that I know the man who sang it to me the first time,” Sarah said to Jareth as they danced while Sherlock played his violin.

“The words are still true,” Jareth said.

“I know that now and that it is not a fleeing dream,” Sarah said, “Thank you, Jareth.”

Jareth rested his head against Sarah’s for a moment. “All thanks are to you, precious.”

&%&%&%

The rest of the wedding was as chaotic as to be expected. Joanna had set up a spell that if certain songs were played, it would suddenly switch to “Never Gonna Give You Up”. Generally, the Rick Rolling would only happen with such songs as “It’s Raining Men” or “The Electric Slide”. Jareth was quite disappointed that a rendition of “Magic Dance” that Joanna had said would play almost immediately was Rick Rolled.

Guests were allowed to pick out songs. Sophie picked out Katy Perry’s “This Moment”. Emily chose “Siuil a Run”. Toby chose Bowling for Soup’s “1985”. Jareth chose “Golden Years” by David Bowie. (He adored the movie _A Knight’s Tale_ and refused to comment on any contact he might have had with Mr. Bowie.) 

Dante had to be reminded that he was only allowed one dance with Molly, as her fiancé, Tom, wanted to dance with her as well. Christiana had suddenly decided she wanted to be escorted by Lestrade. They both flirted so much that Jareth seriously considered taking Lestrade to the back and knocking his teeth out if not for Christiana looking more at ease than she had in almost a hundred years. Sarah was very close to regretting having played “Teenage Rebel” by Chameleon Circuit when she danced with Rumpelstiltskin because that led to her father and the Seelie High King having the longest Doctor Who discussion she had ever heard. (It did lead to her Father receiving a Cyberman Head from their first appearance in 1966, so she supposed it was worth it.)

There were several small fires started by “unknown” sources that were quickly stamped out; winds that made ladies’ skirts and gentlemen’s shirts fly up; vines that tripped guests when they had not been there a minute before; and the sudden appearance of puddles of water that caused dancers’ to slip.

All in all, it could have gone worse. Jareth and Sarah made it to their train on time. They were to have a week long honeymoon to a small cottage in Germany that was owned by Rumpelstiltskin. 

“Joanna and I never had a proper honeymoon,” Rumpelstiltskin said when he gave them the tickets, “And you two will never take a moment to breathe if someone does not force you to.”

&%&%&%

In late April, Sarah came home from work to Jareth in his normal spot sending a text. “Solved the female cyclist case. The man who follows her and disappears is a kidnapper after her fortune. Lestrade is arresting him now. What happened to your arm?”

Sarah looked down at her right arm where a Band-Aid with some cotton swabs was near the crook of her elbow. “I had a blood test.”

“What for?” Jareth said, “Are you alright?”

Sarah smiled and sat on Jareth’s lap. “I am perfectly healthy, Jareth. I have just been feeling odd for a few days. I have had a massive craving for sweet things that I just can’t shake.”

Jareth nodded and kissed Sarah. “Welcome home, precious.”

Sarah said quietly, “I may not be able to join you immediately in January to go the Goblin Kingdom.”

Jareth stiffened. “Why?”

“It’s not good for the Mom and the baby to leave the hospital for a few days after the birth.”

He blinked rapidly. “What.”

“You, Jareth, are going to be a father. I’m due around New Year’s.”

Jareth stared at Sarah as he tried to process the information. She frowned. “Are you not happy?”

He picked up Sarah and spun her around as he laughed. “I’m on top of the world, Sarah. I can’t tell you how overjoyed I am. A baby?”

“Yes, a baby.”

Jareth stopped spinning and held Sarah close. “I am the happiest of men, my dear, wonderful, wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: BABIES!
> 
> A thank you on some of the songs to whitexblackrose (Annalisa Yoru on FF.Net), SarianaJ (also on FF.Net), and Teehee100 on D.A. “Golden Years” by David Bowie is one of my favorite songs to write to, if anyone wondered why I included it instead of another Bowie song.


	4. Chapter IV: An Awful Lot of Running

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

The next day, the couple told Sherlock.

“A baby?” Sherlock said.

“Yes,” Sarah said, “But we aren’t telling a lot of people for some time. Mrs. Hudson, Scotland Yard, and my siblings won’t know.”

“Right. Most miscarriages happen within the first trimester,” Sherlock said.

“Sherlock,” Jareth growled.

“Jareth, I know about the statistics. Being reminded of them will not hurt the baby,” Sarah said.

“Don’t women need… pre… baby… something… things?” Sherlock said.

“I am going to be seeing an obstetrician as soon as I can make an appointment. Jareth and I are going shopping for various items. I have been taking prenatal vitamins pretty soon after Jareth and I got married, which is what I think you were trying to say earlier,” Sarah said.

“Okay,” Sherlock said. He was starting to drift off into his thoughts.

“Sherlock?” Sarah said.

“Hmmm,” Sherlock said.

“Thank you for being concerned about me and the baby,” Sarah said.

“I’m not,” Sherlock said.

&%&%&%

When Jareth and Sarah returned from their shopping trip, they found Sherlock with several piles of books and printed articles surrounding him. “I… um… just some research I came across. What food did you get?”

Jareth slung the two paper bags onto the kitchen counter. “Sweets.”

“I am having massive sugar cravings,” Sarah said.

Sherlock thought for a moment and went to rummage for something in the kitchen. Sarah sat down in the red chair and stretched. When Sherlock came back, he had a mug of milk in one hand and a spoonful of honey in the other.

“What’s that?” Sarah asked.

“An idea,” Sherlock said as he made Sarah eat the spoonful of honey.

Sarah closed her eyes. “That’s it. That’s it. That’s what I’ve been craving.”

“Fairy creatures like honey and milk,” Sherlock said as he gave Sarah the milk to wash down the honey.

“A few more spoonfuls of that honey and I think I’ll be set,” Sarah said.

Jareth sighed. “Then what are we supposed to do with all of this!”

“You and Sherlock are kind of skinny,” Sarah said.

Jareth banged his head against the refrigerator.

&%&%&%

When Sarah was almost eight weeks along, she woke Jareth up from his sleep. She kissed his neck and whispered in his ear. “Jareth, wake up.”

“What’s wrong? Baby safe?” Jareth asked groggily as he tightened his hold around Sarah’s waist.

“The baby is fine. He’s safe,” Sarah said.

“He?” Jareth asked. He pushed himself up on his elbow so he could lean over Sarah. “Did you just say the baby was a he?”

“Yes. I could just… tell? I know that I can’t possibly know, but I do. I can sense him.”

Jareth kissed Sarah’s forehead. “Fair Folk can sense things about their pregnancy because of magic interaction. Jo knew the sex of both Dante and Christiana around this time. Of the few other pregnancies I know of, the same happened.”

Sarah nodded. “Are you happy that you will have a son?”

“I’m glad that the baby is healthy, boy or girl. You know that neither I nor the Goblin Kingdom even needs blood ties for an heir, let alone a male one. It is actually unusual. Three of the last four Goblin Kings have been by blood and the fourth by marriage. Two has been the record before.”

“But you are happy?”

“I am ecstatic,” Jareth said as he grinned. He whispered in Sarah’s ear, “Of course, we will have to work on having girls as well. We should practice on that.”

Sarah laughed as Jareth began kissing her neck. “Oh, we should definitely practice.”

&%&%&%

In late June, Sherlock was in full wedding planner mode. The crime wall was covered with wedding plans. He had even made a 3D model of the reception venue that was sitting on the dining room table. Mary sat in front of the model with a list of attendees. John sat in the red chair on his phone. Sarah was sitting on the black couch eating honey as she was unable to go to work that day from nausea.

“Need to work on your half of the church, Mary. Looking a bit thin,” Sherlock said.

“Ah, orphan’s lot. Friends – that’s all I have. Lots of friends,” Mary said.

Sarah raised her spoon of honey. “Yay! Friends!”

“I really hope that whenever I get pregnant, I do not get as bad of food cravings as you,” Mary said.

“Honey is not weird. What is weird is that Sherlock’s honey helps the most,” Sarah said, “Jareth says that it is because Sherlock loves us.”

“That is not what he said!” Sherlock said, “He said that as I care about your well-being, that it may be sensed by the baby, making it aware that it is safer than ordinary honey.”

Sarah mouthed to Mary, “He loves us.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Schedule the organ music to begin at precisely 11:48.”

“But the rehearsal’s not for another two weeks. Just calm down,” Mary said.

“Calm? I am calm. I’m extremely calm,” Sherlock said in a slightly panicked voice.

Mary motioned for Sherlock to come over. “Let’s get back to the reception, come on.”

Sherlock stood by Mary as he looked at a card given to him by Mary. She said, “John’s cousin. Top table?”

“Hmm. Hates you. Can’t even bear to think about you,” Sherlock said.

“Seriously?” Sarah said.

Sherlock sniffed the card. “Second class post, cheap card bought at a petrol station. Look at the stamp: three attempts at licking. She’s obviously unconsciously retaining saliva.” He finally sat down.

Mary said to John. “Ah. Let’s stick her by the bogs.” She looked at Sherlock. “Who else hates me?”

Sherlock passed her a piece of paper with a long list of names on it.

“Thanks,” Mary said.

John started listing off various cases while Mary and Sherlock worked on the tables. “Priceless painting nicked. Looks interesting.”

Mary looked at the paperwork. “Table four...”

“Done,” Sherlock said.

“My husband is three people,” John quoted.

“Table five,” Mary said.

“Major James Sholto. Who is he?” Sherlock said.

“Oh, John’s old commanding officer. I don’t think he’s coming,” Sarah said.

“He’ll be there,” John said. 

“Well, he needs to RSVP, then,” Mary said.

“He’ll be there,” John insisted, “‘My husband is three people.’ It’s interesting. Says he has three distinct patterns of moles on his skin.”

“Identical triplets,” Sarah and Sherlock said at the same time.

Sherlock looked over at Sarah with surprise.

“What?” Sarah said, “You and Jareth aren’t the only ones who can figure things out. I know stuff about multiple births because my sisters are twins and they wanted to know more.”

Sherlock made a noise of agreement. “Now, serviettes.” He pulled out from under the coffee table a tray with two napkins folded into different shapes. “Swan or Sydney Opera House?”

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Sarah asked.

“Many unexpected skills required in the field of criminal investigation...”

“Fibbing, Sherlock,” Sarah and Mary said at the same time.

“I once broke an alibi by demonstrating the exact severity of...”

Mary said, “I’m not John. I can tell when you’re fibbing.”

Sherlock sighed. “Okay. I learned it on YouTube.”

“Opera House, please,” Mary said. She pulled out her phone. “Hang on. I’m buzzing. Hello? Oh, hi, Beth! Yeah, yeah, don’t see why not.” She left for the kitchen.

John stood up. “Actually, if that’s Beth, it’s probably for me too. Hang on.”

Sarah put aside the honey and closed her eyes. She enjoyed the moment of quiet. When she opened her eyes when John returned from the kitchen, Sherlock had at least twenty napkins folded.

“That just sort of... happened,” Sherlock said apologetically.

_He’s like a puppy with separation anxiety._

John walked over to speak with Sherlock so Mary could not hear them. The detective stood up. “Sherlock, um... mate... I’ve...” They both sat down at the table. “I’ve smelled eighteen different perfumes; I’ve sampled nine different slices of cake which all tasted identical; I like the bridesmaids in purple...”

“Lilac,” Sherlock corrected.

“Lilac. There are no more decisions left to make. I don’t even understand the decisions that we have made. I’m faking opinions and it’s exhausting, so please, before she comes back...” he passed his phone, “...pick something.”

Sarah could not hear the rest of the conversation. John and Sherlock had picked something by the time Mary had come back from her call.

John tried to think of an excuse. “We’re just going to... I need, um, Sherlock to help me choose some, er…”

“They need to pick out accessories,” Sarah said, “The boys forgot about socks and ties in all the fuss over the bridesmaids.”

“I’ll get my coat,” John said.

Sherlock said quietly to Mary, “Just going to take him out for a bit – run him.”

“I know. You said you’d find him a case!” Mary said with approval.

John said from the living room door. “Come on, Sherlock.”

“Coming,” Sherlock said. He stood in the kitchen. 

John and Sherlock gave the thumbs up to Mary without realizing what the other was doing. Mary was grinning as she gave a double thumbs up before the boys left.

“You, Mary Morstan, are an evil mastermind. You should have been a spy or something,” Sarah said.

Mary laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You got Sherlock and John to think it was their idea to take each other out. You don’t even have a friend named Beth. I have no idea how Sherlock hasn’t realized it yet,” Sarah said.

Mary sat on the couch with Sarah. “It’s best to let the boys think they can pull one over on us.”

Sarah made a noise of agreement. She rubbed her flat stomach as her face became more and more weary.

“What’s wrong?” Mary asked.

“Nothing just… tense.”

“Is it the baby?”

“The baby is fine! Stop asking!” Sarah snapped.

Mary did not flinch, but concern was on her face by Sarah’s outburst.

“I’m… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You were just concerned. Everyone is just concerned. That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

“You are happy that you are pregnant, right?”

“I already love the baby. I know he will be wonderful. I can already tell that he is going to be like Jareth.”

Mary nodded and put her arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “But?”

Sarah shrugged. “I… something a patient said. She said as soon as she got pregnant… I feel stupid just talking about it.”

“Then let’s get all the stupid out.”

“Titania, I mean the patient (you never heard me say that name), said that when she got pregnant, her husband lost interest in her and would only talk to her about the baby and he didn’t care about her anymore. We’ve already discussed that Jareth is not like her husband, but… he has been baby crazy like Sherlock has been wedding crazy. I am nowhere near that level and just… ugh. It’s stupid. I know he isn’t going to...” Sarah bit her lip.

“Sarah, you need to talk to him,” Mary said.

“I’m fine. Talking with you has helped. It’s stupid and it will go away. Do you want to go do something? I think I can go and do something for a bit. Come on.”

&%&%&%

Sarah and Mary went to the movies before coming back to 221B. Jareth came back before Sherlock and John did. After removing his coat and jacket, he sat down next to Sarah and wrapped his arms around her. He rubbed her stomach.

“Rough case?” Sarah asked.

He nodded and kissed Sarah until Mary had to clear her throat. “Hello, Mary,” Jareth said wearily.

“Do you need some tea?” Mary asked.

“I should make some,” Jareth said, ignoring Mary’s offer to make it himself.

“Thanks for the offering of tea, Mary,” Sarah said.

“He looks awful,” Mary whispered.

“I know. All I can do is make him sleep sometimes,” Sarah said, “It’s not just the Mycroft stuff. He is doing research on a possible case, but it is too early to bring me in on it. Apparently, he is still trying to decide whether to take it or not.”

“How much does he sleep?” Mary asked.

“Sometimes he gets a full night, but most nights he sleeps for a half hour, works for a couple of hours, and just keeps repeating until I get up for work,” Sarah said.

Sherlock and John came up the stairs. “Well, that was unexpectedly violent,” John said.

“What happened?” Mary said, “Are you two alright?”

“We’re fine,” John said as he gave Mary a kiss.

Sherlock spoke rapidly. “We were dealing with a stalking care. Our client was a royal guard. We tried to contact him at work, but he was still on duty. I snuck into the barracks while John tried a more direct route. Somehow, our client was stabbed in the abdomen in a locked bathroom stall.”

“Oh my god,” Sarah said.

“The client is alive,” Jareth said.

“How did you know that?” John said.

“Sherlock does not have his scarf and you do not look like you are going to punch someone. I assume you stopped the bleeding long enough to save the client,” Jareth said.

“You stole my story!” Sherlock said.

Jareth brought in a tray of tea and set it on the coffee table. “It isn’t your story. It’s John’s. That’s why you are upset that I spoiled the ending.” He gave a goblin grin. “You are a proud mother hen, Sherlock.”

Sherlock threw himself onto the black chair and sulked. “Am not.”

Jareth chuckled and kissed Sarah’s cheek. “Are so.”

&%&%&%

Over the next two weeks before the wedding, Sherlock began dealing with “problem” guests. Sarah understood dealing with Mary’s ex, but she was not quite sure how Sherlock would deal with children. Archie was the ring bearer and known to be a troublemaker.

Sherlock and Archie looked at each other, sizing the other up in 221B.

“Basically it’s a cute smile to the bride’s side, cute smile to the groom’s side and then the rings,” Sherlock said.

“No,” Archie said.

“And you have to wear the outfit,” Sarah said.

“No,” Archie repeated.

“You really do have to wear the outfit,” Sherlock said.

“What for?” Archie asked.

“Grown-ups like that sort of thing,” Sherlock said.

“Why?” Archie asked.

Sherlock thought about the question, looked back at Sarah, and then back at Archie. “...I don’t know. I’ll ask one.”

Sarah smiled and relaxed. _This could be going worse._

“You’re a detective,” Archie said.

“Indeed he is,” Sarah said.

“Have you solved any murders?” Archie asked.

“Sure. Loads,” Sherlock said.

“Can I see?” Archie asked.

Sherlock paused. “Yeah, all right.”

Sarah smacked her head against the dining room table as Sherlock went to set up his laptop. “You can’t show a little boy crime scene photos.”

“Why not? I did and look how well I turned out,” Sherlock said with a smirk as he sat down, “Besides, he has probably seen worse from watching crime shows.”

“If that kid gets nightmares, I am blaming you entirely,” Sarah said.

Sherlock shrugged and pulled up some photos. Archie leaned over his shoulder.

“What’s all the stuff in his eye?” Archie asked.

“Maggots,” Sherlock said.

“Cool!” Archie said.

Sherlock looked at Archie and made a noise of approval. 

_I now know what Sherlock was like when he met Jareth. God save us… Actually, it’s kind of sweet… and disturbing. Mostly disturbing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Glitter covered Buckingham palace hats to anyone who can guess where the title of the chapter comes from.
> 
> Facts dealing with this chapter. A baby’s sex starts developing around 6-8 weeks, but the earliest ultrasounds can tell is around 16-20 weeks (though many times the ultrasound is unable to show the sex). As an American, it was very helpful for Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan to mention in the transcript that ‘bogs’ is a slang word for ‘toilets’ as I found that line very random in the episode.


	5. Chapter V: Stag Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

Jareth looked over at his nephew, who was lounging in Sarah’s chair. “As you can see, no case. No Sarah. Nothing to do. You can just leave.”

“That’s not what Mum says,” Dante said. He made a cup of espresso appear in his hand before taking a sip.

“Your Mother is not all knowing,” Jareth said.

“She knows a lot,” Dante said, “Including when you have diabolical plans.”

“She should know. She taught me,” Jareth said.

“Mum? Honestly?”

“Your Father is protective but not proactive.” Jareth rolled his neck. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see what this secret case is.”

“As you can see, nothing is happening,” Jareth said.

“Except in that blond noggin of yours. Come on. What is it?”

“If Sarah doesn’t know, no one else has to know. Go tell your Mother that.”

“She does worry,” Dante said, “We all do. Even Sarah thinks you are a bit off and she married you, a sure sign of insanity.”

Jareth gave a forced grin. “Goodbye, Dante.”

Jareth’s nephew shrugged. “Another day then, uncle.” 

Dante was gone. Jareth heard John and Sherlock stumble into the hallway downstairs. He went to investigate. Sherlock and John were lying on the bottom stairs leading to 221B, obviously drunk.

“And that is why I don’t drink anymore,” Jareth sighed.

Mrs. Hudson came out of 221A. “What are you doing back? I thought you were going to be out late.”

Sherlock was slurring. “Ah, Hudders. What time is it?”

Mrs. Hudson glanced at her watch. “You’ve only been out two hours.”

John and Sherlock tried to stand but fell back down, causing Jareth to laugh. The goblin went down to help them up. Sherlock seemed to be drunker, so he received Jareth’s support as they went up the stairs.

“You should of come,” Sherlock said, “Like old times.”

“You forget, Sherlock, I was addicted to alcohol long before I was introduced to drugs. We may worry about you shooting up, but I have to worry about bottoms up,” Jareth said.

John giggled. “He said bottom.”

&%&%&%

Sherlock and John then tried to play a game of Rizla. John had a thin white piece of paper that said “Madonna” on his head while Sherlock had his own name on his head. Jareth declined to play as he was trying to decide how to get Sherlock and John to drink water so their hangovers would not be as awful. It was one of the worst Rizla games Jareth has seen. John even touched Sherlock’s knee at one point. _I should not have bet against Mrs. Hudson._

Sherlock said, “So I am human, I’m not as tall as people think I am... I’m nice-ish... clever, important to some people, but I tend to rub them up the wrong way.” He laughed. “Got it.”

“Go on, then,” John said.

“I’m you, aren’t I?” Sherlock said with glee.

Mrs. Hudson knocked at the door. “Ooh-ooh!”

“Thank the powers that be,” Jareth said. He saw a young woman wearing a nurse’s outfit with a cardigan over it standing with Mrs. Hudson.

“Client!” Mrs. Hudson said.

John and Sherlock gave a friendly, “Hello.”

“Ma’am, I am Jareth King.” Jareth shook the woman’s hand before motioning to his friends. “This is my fellow detective, Sherlock Holmes and his partner, Dr. John Watson.” 

“Tessa,” the nurse said.

&%&%&%

Sherlock and John stumbled over to the sofa while Tessa and Jareth sat in front of them on dining chairs. Tessa was hesitant in her story like many clients. It also did not help that Sherlock and John looked like they were going to fall asleep at any moment.

“I don’t... a lot... I mean, I don’t... date all that much... and he seemed... nice, you know?” Tessa said. “We seemed to automatically connect. We had one night – dinner, such interesting conversation. It was... lovely. To be honest, I’d love to have gone further... but I thought, ‘No, this is special. Let’s take it slowly, exchange numbers.’ He said he’d get in touch and then...” She looked down at her hands as she tried not to cry. “Maybe he wasn’t quite as keen as I was... but I just thought... at least he’d call to say that we were finished.”

Tessa wiped a tear from her eye. Sherlock looked upset and seemed to sympathize… and then was confused that he was feeling sympathy.

The client took a deep breath. “I went round there, to his flat. No trace of him. Mr. King...I honestly think I had dinner... with a ghost.”

Jareth said nothing. _This woman is insane. Ghost aren’t real. A banshee, maybe, but a ghost? Please._

“Fascinating!” Sherlock said, “John! Wake up! Apologies about my... you know... thing.”

Jareth gaped at Sherlock. _I have seen him high and act more sensible._

Tessa spoke again. “I checked with the landlord, and the man who lived there died. Heart attack. And there we are, having dinner one week on.” She gave a print out to Sherlock. “And I found this thing online, sort of chat room thing for girls who think they’re dating men from the spirit world.”

Sherlock said, “Don’t worry. I’ll find him in ten minutes. What’s your dog’s name?”

Jareth grabbed Sherlock by his arm and dragged the drunk man into the kitchen. “What the bloody hell are you thinking?”

“It’s fascinating,” Sherlock said. He wobbled. “Not really a ghost, but acts like a ghost.”

“Sherlock, there is a very simple explanation for this,” Jareth said.

“AND I’M GOING TO SOLVE IT!” Sherlock said. He stumbled back over to John to wake him up. “John! Wake up! We’re meant to... The game’s…” He waved his hand. “...something.”

John thought very hard for the answer. “On?”

“Yeah, that. That!” Sherlock said.

Jareth began turning off the lights in 221B. “Ma’am, all credit goes to me and all blame goes to the tall one.”

&%&%&%

_I have made a terrible mistake._

John was leaning against a pillar in the middle of the flat belonging to the dead man. Sherlock was stumbling around the room as he investigated various parts of the apartment. Tessa and the landlord looked at Sherlock’s attempts at deduction warily. Jareth wanted to look away, but he had to make sure Sherlock did not crack his head open.

“See anything?” Tessa asked, “Any clues, Mr. Holmes?”

Sherlock thought for a moment before smiling. “I’m just going whip this out.” He spun around struggled to pull out of his pocket his pouch of equipment. He shook off his coat and dropped it to the floor. After retrieving his magnifier, Sherlock tossed the pouch over his shoulder. He dropped to his knees on the white rug to investigate the carpet. 

“You all right?” Tessa asked.

John said, “Yeah. He’s clueing.”

“What?” Tessa said.

“He’s... He’s clueing for looks,” John said.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. “He is looking for clues you moron.”

Sherlock fell asleep on the carpet during the course of the conversation.

“I’m calling the police,” the landlord said.

Tessa said, “Oh, no...”

The landlord hauled Sherlock up to his knees. Sherlock protested. The landlord took a few steps back. John looked ready to throw a punch (though he was physically incapable of it).

Tessa explained, “These are famous detectives. Jareth King and Sherlock Holmes and their partner, John Hamish Watson.”

Sherlock huffed. “What do you think you’re doing? Don’t compromise the integrity of the...” He then vomited.

“Crime scene!” John added.

“Yeah, that,” Sherlock said.

Jareth sunk to the floor and covered his face. _I have been shot, stabbed, punched, kicked, electrocuted, whipped, beaten, drowned, suffocated, and yet I lived until this very moment. Death by embarrassment. This is the story of how I died._

&%&%&%

Jareth had the rest of the night to think after they had been arrested. Sherlock had fallen asleep on the only bench in the cell. John had dozed in a sitting position against the wall. 

_Sarah will murder me. She’ll be happy that I am safe, but she’ll murder me._

Early that morning, after the sun had entered the cell, they were bailed out. John was struggling to wake-up when Lestrade strolled into the cell.

“Wakey-wakey!” Lestrade said cheerfully.

“Oh my god. Greg. Is that Greg?” John said.

“Get up. I’m going to put the lot of you in a taxi. Managed to square things with the desk sergeant,” Greg said as John tried to stand up. “What a couple of lightweights! You couldn’t even make it to closing time!”

John said quietly, “Can you whisper?”

Lestrade then yelled in John’s ear, “NOT REALLY!”

Sherlock sat up and gasped. He looked around in confusion. 

“You are safe, Sherlock,” Jareth said as he began to stand up, “No one is going to hurt you.”

Sherlock nodded as he rubbed his eyes. He left the cell. 

“How long am I to remain here?” Jareth asked.

“Oh, yeah. The wife,” Greg said as he smiled, “Sarah says that you are to return to 221B immediately as you were in no way intoxicated during the events. However, you are going to get your arse kicked. Well, that last one was paraphrased. There was a bit more cursing in the original message.”

&%&%&%

Sherlock went on about how the case would have been brilliant, but John finally got him to shut up for a few minutes. The men were dropped off at 221 Baker Street. John went to see if Mrs. Hudson had something for a hangover. Sherlock went down to 221C to do some research on the ghost boyfriend. Jareth slowly made his way up to 221B.

Sarah was sitting in Jareth’s chair. She had her left leg thrown casually over the arm of the chair while she rested her hands on her stomach. “Close the door.”

Jareth did and went to stand before Sarah. “May I speak?”

“Not yet,” Sarah said, “Jareth, if you wanted to go out on the stag night, I am sure Sherlock and John would have found something non-alcoholic to do.”

“Do you really think I would do something like that?” Jareth said.

“Yes,” Sarah said, “I am not done. So shush.”

Jareth grinned.

Sarah stood up. “You will wipe that grin off your face or I will take it off for you.”

“I missed this,” Jareth said.

“Are you saying you like me wanting to scream at you until your eardrums burst?” Sarah said.

“I miss you being defiant. You have been so serene, particularly since the baby. I thought that part had died out in you. As soon as you think I understand you, you go and do something like you are doing now.”

Sarah grabbed Jareth by his shirt collar and pulled him close to her face, millimeters from her lips. “Jareth Miller, I am not a mystery to solve. I am a person. I am a person who loves her husband so much it hurts. I am angry at you for not caring about what you have spent years building just because you want to hang out with your buddies. You may be king in a few months, but right now you are a detective. You have not had a client dissatisfied with your work in the entire time I have known you. Pissed at you? Certainly, but not because of the quality of your work. You. Have. Failed. A. Client. You. Arrogant. Ass.”

Jareth held Sarah’s wrists. “I am aware.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Sarah said.

“I will solve the client’s case in a timely fashion,” Jareth said.

“What else?” Sarah said.

“Sarah, please.”

“Jareth.”

He sighed. “I will apologize to the client.”

“Good. That is what you need to do. Later.” Sarah kissed him. “You have to apologize to me first.”

“I may enjoy that as much as you,” Jareth said.

&%&%&%

Jareth stroked Sarah’s hair as she fell asleep next to him. “I am sorry that I scared you,” Jareth said.

“Hmmm. Don’t do something stupid without telling me first. I may make it less stupid.”

“You certainly are the sane one of this operation,” Jareth said.

Sarah smiled slightly as her breathing became more even. Jareth pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. “My Sarah.”

Jareth thought over the stress Sarah had been going through over the past few months. There was getting married, being married, training for her duties as queen, taking care of Sherlock, helping Mary and John, her friendship with Molly, the cases, her family, his family, working full time, and the baby. She seemed to handle it all with grace. He knew, however, that the added stress of helping Titania would break her.

Yes, he had guessed that Sarah’s secret patient was Titania. It was the only person he could think of that could order for a human nurse and who could so irritate Joanna. Sarah may have been firm on her stance of client privacy, but Jareth was not. The sooner Titania’s child was born, the sooner Sarah would be better.

_I would hate to hear what poison Titania is telling Sarah. Joanna had better be reassuring my wife or I will set all of her fountains on fire._

Jareth moved and kissed Sarah’s stomach. “Mommy works too hard, so let her sleep for a little while, son. No nausea for at least an hour.”

He left Sarah to sleep. He dressed just in his trousers and a dressing gown before going downstairs to see the other detective. Sherlock was surrounded by laptops as he typed to various women who had dated the mysterious “Mayfly Man” (as Sherlock had dubbed the ghost boyfriend as he lived for only a day).

Jareth saw that Tessa was among the women being interviewed. He typed, “Hello. I am sorry for overestimating my partners’ abilities last night. - Jareth”.

Tessa replied, “No worries. He seems to be doing the job now.”

Jareth stepped away from the computers and almost hit John in the face as he stretched. “Sorry,” Jareth said.

“It’s fine. You and Sarah alright then?” John asked.

“Everything is wonderful,” Jareth said.

“No. No! NO!” Sherlock said as the women he was interviewing signed off of chat at the same time.

“Enjoy the wedding,” Tessa said.

“Did you ask your bra size? I asked that in relation to a case to Sarah before we were together, and she slapped me,” Jareth said.

“I asked if they had a secret and they all answered ‘no’ far too quickly,” Sherlock said, “Why? Why would he date all of those women and not return their calls?”

“You’re missing the obvious, mate,” John said.

Sherlock turned to John. “Am I?”

“He’s a man,” John said.

Holmes began closing the laptops. “But why would he change his identity?”

“Maybe he’s married,” John said.

Sherlock stood up. “Oh.”

Jareth smiled and patted John on the back. “I knew I liked you.”

“You knew?” Sherlock said.

“I knew almost as soon as Tessa told us her story,” Jareth said, “It’s common enough. Always important to do a background check before dating someone to make sure they are not married. You may end up being chased around the Unseelie Court by an irate husband with an ax as he tries to remove… organs you are rather fond of.”

“Speaking from experience?” John said.

“Even if I was, Sarah would already know… because my nephew is a brat and loves telling those sorts of stories.”

&%&%&%

It was the night before John and Mary’s wedding when Christiana appeared in a cloud of gold glitter in 221B. Jareth was on the couch with Sarah. 

“What’s wrong?” Jareth said.

“Titania has given birth. It’s a girl,” Christiana said, “The next few weeks are going to be critical in how we will be dealing with Titania. Please, try to keep to low profile cases.”

“We have been doing that for the past few months. I am sure we will keep it up,” Sarah said.

_For now…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think the drunk scene is hilarious, but I based Jareth’s experience on my own. It really is very awkward when a bunch of people are drunk and you are not.


	6. Chapter VI: Just Get Me to the Church on Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

Sarah, though always amazed by her husband’s voice, was glad that Jareth had resisted bursting into song before or during the wedding save for a rendition of “Just Get Me to the Church on Time” when he and Sherlock had shoved John towards the church when the groom started getting nervous.

“What if I fall on my face? What if the church catches on fire? What if she realizes how much of an ass I am?” John said.

“She already knows you’re an ass,” Sherlock, Jareth, and Sarah said at the same time.

&%&%&%

The only other hiccup of the morning was that Mary got sick from wedding nerves. 

“Here, Mary. Have some ginger ale. Once your stomach settles, you can use this emergency toothbrush kit,” Sherlock said.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” Mary said miserably.

“Your make-up and hair still looks good,” Sarah said, “A little touch-up for the lips and we will be back in business.”

“Mary,” Sherlock said, “We should discuss why you became ill.”

“One word about my digestive system, and I will puke on your shoes and then make you walk barefoot down the aisle,” Mary said.

Sherlock wisely kept his mouth shut.

&%&%&%

The ceremony was, of course, lovely. The bride was, of course, beautiful. The groom was, of course, awestruck. And the best man was, surprisingly, perfect.

John and Mary took a variety of pictures after the ceremony, currently of just the two of them. Jareth stood behind Sarah with his arms wrapped around her waist. Molly (in a yellow dress that looked similar to something Dante had sketched) was near her fiancé, Tom, cheering on the proceedings as was Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock looked rather mournful. Janine, a pretty brunette who was the maid of honor, struck up a conversation with him.

“The famous Mr. Holmes! I’m very pleased to meet you. But no sex, okay?”

_Well, that’s one way to start a conversation._

Sherlock was startled. “Um, sorry?”

Janine laughed in good humor. “You don’t have to look so scared. I’m only messing. Bridesmaid, best man. It’s a bit traditional.” She gently punched his arm, which seemed to confuse Sherlock.

“Is it?”

“But not obligatory,” Janine said as she realized that he was not understanding her playful teasing.

Sherlock began working out a problem in his mind. “If that’s the sort of thing you’re looking for the man over there in blue is your best bet. Recently divorced doctor with a ginger cat, a barn conversion, and a history of erectile dysfunction.”

Sarah covered her mouth as she tried not to giggle at the conversation she was overhearing. Jareth heard it as well and was laughing into the crook of Sarah’s neck.

Sherlock frowned. “Reviewing that information, possibly not your best bet.”

“Yeah, maybe not, Janine said.

“Sorry. There was one more deduction there than I was expecting,” Sherlock said.

Janine took Sherlock’s arm. “Mr. Holmes, you’re going to be incredibly useful.”

“Daw. Sherlock has a new buddy,” Sarah said.

“Does that mean we are no longer on babysitting duty?” Jareth asked, “We get to have _alone_ time during this wedding?”

Sarah groaned. “You are insufferable. No. We are going to take care of Sherlock. He is stressed out. Mary and John are stressed out.”

“I’m stressed out. You’re stressed out. I have a lovely activity in mind to remove stress for the two of us,” Jareth said.

Sarah elbowed him. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“My mind may be in the gutter, but I am looking at the stars.”

“No. Bad Jareth. You are not allowed to quote or paraphrase Oscar Wilde.”

“Oh, but it works out so well for me when I do.”

_This wedding is going to be murder._

&%&%&%

John and Mary stood outside the venue of the reception. Sherlock stood by John’s side as the rest of the wedding party stood a little further back. “Are you going to wear the hat all day?” Sarah asked.

Jareth glanced up at the silver top hat. “Of course not. It is rude for a man to wear a hat indoors. I took it off in the church.”

“I am still shocked you didn’t catch on fire,” Sarah said.

“I was baptized, be it many centuries ago,” Jareth said, “I have a slight immunity. However, I feel the need to reestablish my evil ways and…”

“Jareth, please. You can wait a couple of hours,” Sarah said.

“You look so beautiful in that dress and it reminds me of how gorgeous you were on our wedding day. Then I remember other things and…”

“I will elbow you in the groin if you don’t shut up.”

Jareth sighed but cheered up almost instantly. “Ah, so David did show up.”

“Oh, yeah. Mary’s friend.”

“ _Mary’s ex_ ,” Jareth corrected, “Sherlock may have had a talk with him.”

Sarah sighed. “Please don’t tell me that Sherlock threatened him.”

“Fine then. I won’t.”

Sarah groaned. “He’s harmless.”

“Precious, you have no room to discuss how to deal with your spouse’s ex-partners.”

“Well, I doubt David is going to sell top-secret government secrets while poisoning Mary.”

Archie ran up and hugged Sherlock. The detective awkwardly patted Archie’s head as he was unsure of how to deal with such affection.

“Mm, yes, um, well done in the service, Archie,” Sherlock said.

Archie’s Mother said, “He’s really come out of his shell. I don’t know how you did it. He said you had some pictures for him as a treat.”

Sherlock patted Archie’s head again. “Er, yes... if he’s good.”

“Beheadings,” Archie said cheerily.

“Lovely little village,” Sherlock said quickly.

Jareth snickered. “I thought that little boy reminded me of someone.”

&%&%&%

Inside was chatting and minor chaos. Molly was showing off Tom and repeatedly kissing his cheek. Mrs. Hudson enjoyed her glass of wine with Lestrade who was making liberal use of the free bar. John and Mary were enjoying the appetizers. Mary in particular indulged as she had worked hard to look her best for the wedding. (Dante swore she would look lovely without losing weight, but Mary had insisted.)

Sherlock was in the back chatting with Janine. Sarah was sitting near where they were speaking as her feet were hurting her more than usual. Jareth was holding Sarah’s hand tightly, almost to the point of pain.

“We will leave if you don’t think you can do this,” Sarah said, “There is nothing to be…”

“I want to see our friends married. Besides, I have to keep a look-out for any Fae who might steal the bride. You never know with Dante, that insufferable flirt.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “I wonder where he gets it from.”

Janine noticed a good-looking waiter. “He’s nice.”

Sherlock said, “Traces of two leading brands of deodorant, both advertised for their strength, suggestive of a chronic body odor problem manifesting under stress.”

“Okay, done there,” Janine said. She motioned towards the kitchen to a waiter who was removing a skewer from a large joint of roast beef. “What about his friend?

“Long-term relationship, compulsive cheat,” Sherlock informed.

“Seriously?”

“Waterproof cover on his smart phone. Yet his complexion doesn’t indicate outdoor work. Suggests he’s in the habit of taking his phone into the shower with him, which means he often receives texts and emails he’d rather went unseen.”

“Can I keep you?” Janine said.

“Do you like solving crimes?” Sherlock asked.

“Do you have a vacancy?” Janine said cheerfully.

Jareth seemed deeply amused by this. He seemed comfortable enough to go talk to Sherlock without Sarah. She went over to the newlyweds. “How are the guests shaping up?”

“Harry is a no show,” John said.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” Mary said.

“It was a bit of a punt asking her, I suppose. Still, free bar – wouldn’t have been a good mix,” John said.

Sarah glanced over at Jareth who was walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her. “Baby happy?”

“ _We_ are fine,” Sarah said. 

John looked over the entrance and was surprised by what he saw. There was a highly-decorated, uniformed man with a scarred face who carried a saber at his side.

“Look at that lettuce leaf,” Sarah said in awe.

“Lettuce leaf?” Jareth asked.

“All the medals,” Sarah said, “I don’t think I have ever seen that many honors on a person in real life before.”

“He came!” John said joyfully. He went over to the man and they saluted each other.

Sherlock walked over to Mary. “So that’s him. Major Sholto.”

“One would assume that with even the slightest use of deduction or are you distracted?” Jareth said.

Sarah elbowed Jareth.

Sherlock huffed, “If they’re such good friends, why does he barely even mention him?”

“He mentions him all the time to me. He never shuts up about him,” Mary said.

“About _him_?” Sherlock said.

Mary took a sip from her glass of wine and grimaced. “Ugh. I chose this wine. It’s bloody awful.”

Sarah sniffed the wine and wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, that smells awful.”

Sherlock asked, “Yes, but it’s definitely him that he talks about? I’ve never even heard him say his name.”

Sarah said, “Well, he’s almost a recluse. Lives god only knows where since, you know...”

“Yes,” Sherlock said.

Mary said. “I didn’t think he’d show up at all. John says he’s the most unsociable man he’s ever met.”

Sherlock was deeply insulted. “He is? He’s the most unsociable? Ah, that’s why he’s bouncing round him like a puppy.”

Mary and Sarah both hugged Sherlock. “Poor baby,” Sarah cooed.

“Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know,” Mary reassured him.

Sherlock glared at Mary and then Sarah. “Stop smiling.”

“It’s my wedding day!” Mary protested.

Sarah giggled as Sherlock pulled away. Mary took another sip from her glass and made another face. “Worst. Wine. Ever. It’s like eating yeast mixed with vinegar.”

&%&%&%

Jareth had been pulled aside by Mrs. Hudson, allowing Sarah to walk around the room freely. She saw Sherlock talking on the phone and she had a good guess as to who it was.

“Even at the eleventh hour it’s not too late, you know. Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered.” Sherlock paused. “What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely d...” Another pause. “Oh, I don’t know. There should always be a specter at the feast.”

Sarah took a sip of Coca-Cola from her glass as she inched close enough to hear Mycroft speaking. “I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you from now on.”

“What do you mean?” Sherlock said.

“Just like old times.”

“No, I don’t understand.”

“Well, it’s the end of an era, isn’t it? John and Mary – domestic bliss.”

Sherlock was obviously distressed. “No, no, no – I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter. …What?”

“Nothing!”

“I know that silence. What?”

“Well, I’d better let you get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don’t you?”

Sherlock was still seething from not being answered. “What?”

“Cake, karaoke... mingling.”

“Mycroft!”

“This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don’t get involved.”

“Involved? I’m not involved.”

_Oh, Sherlock. Yes, you are._

“No?” 

“John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no?”

Mycroft responded sarcastically, “Absolutely!”

“I’m not involved!” Sherlock insisted.

Mycroft’s sarcasm continued. “I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best.”

“I will,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, by the way, Sherlock – do you remember Redbeard?”

There was a shift in Sherlock’s demeanor. His body tensed and his jaw tightened. In a manner that reminded her of Jareth, he said, “I’m not a child any more, Mycroft.”

“No, of course you’re not. Enjoy not getting involved, Sherlock.”

Sherlock hung up the phone. “How much did you hear, Sarah?”

“We should take a walk, Sherlock. We have time for that,” Sarah said, “I need some fresh air.”

Sherlock took Sarah’s arm and led her to the garden. She patted Jareth’s shoulder as she passed him. After walking for a minute outside, Sarah sat down on a bench and took off her high-heeled, lilac shoes.

“Oh, that feels marvelous,” Sarah moaned.

“I am perfectly alright,” Sherlock said.

“You called Mycroft. You are not even close to alright,” Sarah said. She leaned back on her hands and stuck out her legs. “Are you worried about the speech?”

Sherlock began to pace. “No, I mean, yes. Jareth has been helping me. Everything should be fine.”

_We’re doomed._

“Jareth can be a persuasive speaker,” Sarah said.

“The ceremony went perfectly. The lunch seems to be on its way. The cake arrived with no issues. None of the bridesmaids are drunk.”

“The napkins are perfectly folded,” Sarah added.

“Why should I not be alright?”

“I don’t know, Sherlock. I just know that I have never seen you call Mycroft. Only a few texts to annoy him here and there.”

Sherlock shrugged.

“Who’s Redbeard?”

Sherlock stopped his pacing and turned towards Sarah. “You heard that?”

“I did. Who is he? An uncle? A friend?”

Sherlock sat next to Sarah on the bench. “…My dog when I was a boy.”

Sarah lit up. “A puppy? You had a puppy named Redbeard? And you wanted to be a pirate! What a perfect name!”

“He was put down,” Sherlock said.

Sarah patted Sherlock’s back lightly three times. “I am sorry to hear that.”

“You understand,” Sherlock said, “More than anyone else here, how important a dog is. He was my… friend. A source of calm.”

“Merlin was that to me too,” Sarah said, “No matter how angry or scared I was, Merlin was always there for me.”

Jareth came up the path, his silver top hat on his head slightly askew as Archie was riding on his shoulders. “We’re the search party!” Archie exclaimed.

“And you have found us!” Sarah said. She slipped back on her shoes and kissed Sherlock’s cheek. “You are John’s best friend and you love him very much. You will be great.”

Sherlock nodded, stood up, and stretched. Jareth put down Archie and then swung Sarah up into his arms, causing her to laugh.

“I see my chariot has arrived,” Sarah said. She snatched his hat. “How do I look?”

“Like the Mad Hatter, precious,” Jareth said.

“Then it is a success!” Sarah said.

&%&%&%

The wedding meal was three courses and it all was mouthwateringly delicious. Janine and two other bridesmaids sat on Mary’s side while Sherlock, Sarah, and Jareth sat by John. Sarah could see that Sherlock was becoming more and more nervous as his speech drew closer.

The Master of Ceremonies tapped a spoon against a champagne glass. “Pray silence for the best man.”

The guests applauded and cheered. Sherlock stood and buttoned his jacket. Jareth rested his arm around Sarah’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“He’ll be fine,” Jareth whispered to her, “There may be some bumps, but he will do a good job.”

Sherlock cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends... and... erm... others. Er... w... Also...”

Sarah glanced over to where Mrs. Hudson, Molly, Tom, and Lestrade sat. They looked as worried as Sarah felt. Jareth’s smile set her at ease somewhat.

“Telegrams,” John said quietly.

“Right, um...” Sherlock patted his jacket before realizing the telegrams were on the table. “First things first. Telegrams. Well, they’re not actually telegrams. We just call them telegrams. I don’t know why. Wedding tradition... because we don’t have enough of that already, apparently.”

Sarah gripped Jareth’s knee. He whispered to her, “Relax, precious.”

Sherlock read the first card. “To Mr. and Mrs. Watson. So sorry I’m unable to be with you on your special day. Good luck and best wishes, Mike Stamford.”

Mary and John smiled and there was a murmur of acknowledgment from the crowd..

Sherlock read the next card. “To John and Mary. All good wishes for your special day. With love and many big... big squishy cuddles, from Stella and Ted.”

Sarah smiled and resisted giggling. Jareth rested his head against Sarah’s shoulder until his own giggling fit passed.

Sherlock glared at Sarah and Jareth before reading the next card. “Mary – lots of love... poppet ... Oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM.”

Jareth raised an eyebrow at Mary’s sudden loss of a smile.

“Wish your family could have seen this,” Sherlock read on.

John took Mary’s hand. Mary reassured him that she was alright.

Sherlock began tossing cards onto the table. “Um, ‘special day’... ‘very special day’ ... ‘love’... ‘love’... ‘love’... ‘love’... ; bit of a theme – you get the gist. People are basically fond.”

The guests laughed. Sarah began to see that Sherlock was becoming more at ease with the speech.

Sherlock gestured to John before turning to the audience again. “John Watson. My friend, John Watson. John.”

Mr. Holmes took a deep breath before continuing. “When John first broached the subject of being best man, I was confused. I confess at first I didn’t realize he was asking me. When finally I understood, I expressed to him that I was both flattered and... surprised. I explained to him that I’d never expected this request and I was a little daunted in the face of it. I nonetheless promised that I would do my very best to accomplish a task which was – for me – as demanding and difficult as any I had ever contemplated. Additionally, I thanked him for the trust he’d placed in me...”

“I do not remember this,” Jareth whispered to Sarah.

“...and indicated that I was, in some ways, very close to being... moved by it. It later transpired that I had said none of this out loud.”

John laughed heartily as did the other guests. Sherlock seemed pleased that the joke was pulled off. He then took out cue cards from his pocket.

“Done that. Done that... Done that bit... Done that bit... Done that bit... Hmm...”

Sherlock glanced over at Jareth, a little lost. Jareth grinned and winked, which brought back Sherlock’s normal disdain for humanity and his natural arrogance.

The best man turned to the groom. “I’m afraid, John, I can’t congratulate you.” He looked at the guests. “All emotions, and in particular love, stand opposed to the pure, cold reason I hold above all things. A wedding is, in my considered opinion, nothing short of a celebration of all that is false and specious and irrational and sentimental in this ailing and morally compromised world.”

Greg and Molly were absolutely horrified. Sarah was trying to figure out any way for Sherlock to have misspoken

“Today we honor the death-watch beetle that is the doom of our society and, in time – one feels certain – our entire species.”

Sarah glanced at Jareth, who was still grinning. She leaned towards him. “If you did this as a joke, I will not have sex with you until after the baby is born.”

“Patience, precious. There is a method in his madness.”

“That is not how the line goes.”

Sherlock spoke again. “But anyway... let’s talk about John. If I burden myself with a little help-mate during my adventures, it is not out of sentiment or caprice – it is that he has many fine qualities of his own that he has overlooked in his obsession with me. Indeed, any reputation I have for mental acuity and sharpness comes, in truth, from the extraordinary contrast John so selflessly provides.”

_Did he just…?_

“It is a fact, I believe, that brides tend to favor exceptionally plain bridesmaids for their big day. There is a certain analogy there, I feel.”

Jareth held Sarah back. “Wait,” he whispered.

“...and contrast is, after all, God’s own plan to enhance the beauty of his creation or it would be if God were not a ludicrous fantasy designed to provide a career opportunity for the family idiot.”

Sarah truly wondered if embarrassment could kill as there was a vicar in attendance.

“The point I’m trying to make is that I am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet.” Sherlock glanced at the vicar. “I am dismissive of the virtuous...” then Sarah and Janine, “unaware of the beautiful...” with a final look at Mary and John, “and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. So if I didn’t understand I was being asked to be best man, it is because I never expected to be anybody’s best friend. Certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being I have ever had the good fortune of knowing. John, I am a ridiculous man redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship. But, as I’m apparently your best friend, I cannot congratulate you on your choice of companion. Actually, now I can.”

The mood was turning.

“Mary, when I say you deserve this man, it is the highest compliment of which I am capable. John, you have endured war, loss, and heartbreak… so know this: today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved – in short, the two people who love you most in all this world. And I know I speak for Mary as well when I say we will never let you down, and we have a lifetime ahead to prove that.”

Jareth passed a handkerchief to Sarah, though he was teary-eyed as well. Molly smiled with pride.

“If I try and hug him, stop me,” John said.

“Certainly not,” Mary said.

Sherlock moved onto the next card. “Ah, yes. Now on to some funny stories about John...” He stopped and saw that the guests were crying, becoming particularly alarmed when he saw the state of Jareth and Sarah. He turned to John. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you all doing that? John?”

Mrs. Hudson said tearfully, “Oh, Sherlock!”

“Did I do it wrong?” Sherlock asked with fear evident in his voice.

John stood up. “No, you didn’t. Come here.”

John hugged Sherlock for the first time. The guests applauded. Sherlock reciprocated the hug, not entirely sure how he did it right, but glad that he did. 

“I haven’t finished yet,” Sherlock said.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” John said. He released Sherlock from the hug.

Sherlock tried to talk over the applause. “So, on to some funny stories...”

“Can you – can you wait ’til I sit down?” John said as he did sit down.

“So, on to some funny stories about John,” Sherlock said, “If you could all just cheer up a bit, that would...”

The guests laughed. 

“...be better. On we go,” Sherlock said.

Jareth kissed Sarah’s cheek. “I never thought I would see the day when Sherlock would be a good man. I don’t think I could be prouder of him.”

“He had you as an example,” Sarah said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The chapter title is from, of course, _My Fair Lady_. And dang it, even writing the speech made me cry. There is no immunity to it. *shakes fist at the sky* SHERLOCK FEELS!


	7. Chapter VII: The Universe Is Rarely So Lazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

“So, for funny stories… one has to look no further than Sarah’s blog,” Sherlock said, “The lot of us get into all sorts of scraps while making Jareth think he is the brains of the operation.”

The guests laughed. Jareth smiled in a way to show just a bit of his sharp teeth. 

“The record of our time together. Of course, Sarah does tend to romanticize things a bit, but then, you know… for some reason my friends are a bunch of romantics. We’ve tackled some strange cases: the Hollow Client… the Poison Giant. We’ve had some frustrating cases, ‘touching’ cases, and of course I have to mention the elephant in the room. But we want something... very particular for this special day, don’t we? The Bloody Guardsman.”

Jareth, of course, knew the story and had seen it written it up on Sarah’s blog with her trademark flourishes of fancy. Hearing Sherlock’s matter-of-fact telling was rather soothing to him, but a bit distressing to the more squeamish guests. Sarah relaxed enough to lean against Jareth.

Sherlock came to the conclusion of his story. “Private Bainbridge had just come off guard duty. He’d stood there for hours, plenty of people watching, nothing apparently wrong. He came off duty and within minutes was nearly dead from a wound in his stomach, but there was no weapon. Where did it go? Ladies and gentlemen, I invite you to consider this: a murderer who can walk through walls, a weapon that can vanish – but in all of this there is only one element which can be said to be truly remarkable. Would anyone like to make a guess?”

Jareth had ruled out magic immediately. Knowing where the speech was going also helped, but he kept silent.

“Come on, come on, there is actually an element of Q and A to all of this,” Sherlock said.

No one answered. Like a slightly sadistic teacher, Sherlock called out the student who seemed the least interested in the class. “Scotland Yard. Have you got a theory?”

Greg looked at him suspiciously. 

Sherlock nodded. “Yeah, you. You’re a detective – broadly speaking. Got a theory?”

“Er, um, if the, uh, if the, if, if the blade was, er, propelled through the, um... grating in the air vent... maybe a ballista or a – or a – or a catapult. Erm, somebody tiny could-could crawl in there. So, yeah, we’re... we’re looking for a dwarf.”

Jareth would have laughed if Sarah had not elbowed him in the stomach. He was certain he was going to get bruises if she kept doing that.

“Brilliant,” Sherlock said.

Lestrade brightened. “Really?”

“No,” Sherlock said, “Next!”

Jareth saw who was going to be Sherlock’s next victim almost the same time as Sherlock did.

“Tom,” Sherlock said, “Got a theory?”

Tom looked nervous as he stood. “Um... attempted suicide, with a blade made of compacted blood and bone; broke after piercing his abdomen... like a meat ... dagger.”

_And thank you powers that be, Molly realizes what an absolute idiot she almost married._

Sherlock spoke each syllable precisely. “A meat dagger.”

Tom said with hesitation, “Yes.”

Molly was gritting her teeth. “Sit. Down.”

“No,” Sherlock said as Tom sat down, “There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. John Watson – who, while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life. There are mysteries worth solving and stories worth telling. The best and bravest man I know – and on top of that he actually knows how to do stuff... except wedding planning and serviettes – he’s rubbish at those.”

The guests laughed as John confirmed Sherlock’s statement.

The dark haired detective smiled. “The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly-planned murder – or attempted murder – I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked-room mystery of which I am aware. However, I’m not just here to praise John – I’m also here to embarrass him, so let’s move on to some...”

Lestrade interrupted. “Wait, so how was it done?”

“How was what done?” Sherlock asked.

“The stabbing,” Lestrade said.

Sarah bit her lip and glared at Lestrade while also patting Jareth’s knee.

Sherlock was trying to hid his shame about the case. “I’m afraid I don’t know. I didn’t solve that one. That’s... It can happen sometimes. It’s very... very disappointing.” Sherlock took a deep breath before continuing. “Embarrassment leads me on to the stag night. Of course there’s hours of material here, but I’ve cut it down to the really good bits.”

This led to the Mayfly Man/Stag Night story, with all of the horrible, embarrassing details included. Sarah would occasionally glare at Jareth, just to remind him that he _would not_ be doing that again.

Sherlock reached the point in the story when John pointed out the answer. “Married. Obvious, really. Our Mayfly Man was trying to escape the suffocating chains of domesticity... and instead of endless nights in, watching the telly, or going to barbecues with awful dreadful boring people he couldn’t stand, he used his wits, cleverness and powers of disguise to play the field. He was...”

He paused and looked at John, Mary, and Sarah’s disapproving looks and Jareth’s mischievous smirk. “On second thoughts I probably should have told you about the Elephant in the Room. However, it does help to further illustrate how invaluable John is to me. I can read a crime scene the way he can understand a human being. I used to think that’s what made me special – quite frankly, I still do. But a word to the wise: should any of you require the services of either of us, I will solve your murder, but it takes John Watson to save your life. Trust me on that – I should know. He’s saved mine so many times, and in so many ways.”

Jareth moved so he and Sarah were less entangled as he knew it was the end of the speech.

“Sarah’s stories are about a group of friends and their frankly ridiculous adventures of murder, mystery and mayhem. But from now on, there’s a new story – a bigger adventure. Ladies and gentlemen, pray charge your glasses and be up standing.” 

The group did as they were told. The photographer began taking pictures of Sherlock. Jareth gave a quick kiss on the cheek to Sarah.

Sherlock raised his glass. “Today begin the adventures of Mary Elizabeth Watson and John Hamish Watson. The two reasons why every single one of us is...” Sherlock dropped his glass and looked dazed. “...here today.”

Jareth felt his spine stiffen and the room seemed to become colder. _Something has gone wrong. Sherlock knows something is very, very wrong. What the bloody hell is it and how do we stop it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: “The universe is rarely so lazy” is among my favorite lines of the series, but I could not go into Sherlock’s mind palace as (save for one-shots, prologues, and epilogues) I try to stay in Jareth and Sarah’s heads.


	8. Chapter VIII: Save the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

Sherlock had dropped his glass of champagne as he finished up his speech. “ Ooh, sorry. I...”

Sarah suddenly felt uneasy. Sherlock was not clumsy. It could have been an accident. It could have been something more. She saw Jareth’s stiff manner out of the corner of her eye. _Damn. Something more._

The Master of Ceremonies came by with back-up champagne. “Another glass, sir?”

Sherlock took the champagne. “Thank you, yes. Thank you, yes.”

“Now, where were we?” Sherlock said. “Ah, yes. Raising glasses and standing up. Very good. Thank you.” He motioned downwards. “And down again.”

The guests began murmuring amongst themselves as they did as they were told. Jareth’s posture has become so relaxed Sarah now had no doubt something was terribly wrong.

Sherlock put down his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, people tell you not to milk a good speech – get off early, leave ’em laughing. Wise advice I’ll certainly try to bear in mind. But for now...” Using one hand to help with the lift, Sherlock jumped over the table, almost smacking John with his feet. “Part two.”

Sherlock walked down the center aisle of table. “Part two is more action-based. I’m going to... walk around, shake things up a bit. Who’d go to a wedding? That’s the question. Who would bother to go to any lengths to get themselves to a wedding?” He walked back up towards the center table again. “Well, everyone. Weddings are great! Love a wedding. I’ve been to two weddings this year, my best record yet.”

“What’s he doing?” Mary whispered to John.

“Something is wrong,” John said as he glanced at Jareth for a moment.

Sherlock pointed at John. “And John’s great, too! Haven’t said that enough. Barely scratched the surface. I could go on all night about the depth and complexity of his... jumpers...” Sherlock seemed to be examining each of the male guests. “...and he can cook. Does... a... thing... thing with peas...once. Might not be peas. Might not be him. But he’s got a great singing voice... or somebody does.”

“Mayfly Man,” Jareth whispered to Sarah, “Bloody hell. I hate being wrong. Too many people to figure it out though. Sherlock, you need to approach it differently.”

“Ahh, too many, too many, too many, too many!” Sherlock said. “Sorry. Too many jokes about John! Now, er... Where was I? Ah, yes... Speech! Speech. Let’s talk about... murder.”

“Damn,” Sarah and Jareth said at the same time.

“Sorry, did I say ‘murder’? I meant to say ‘marriage’ – but, you know, they’re quite similar procedures when you think about it. The participants tend to know each other, and it’s over when one of them is dead.” Sherlock said. 

“He is going to lose the crowd,” Jareth said.

“In fairness, murder is a lot quicker, though. Janine!” Sherlock said as he stood behind a male guest. “What about this one? Acceptably hot? More importantly, his girlfriend’s wearing brand-new uncomfortable underwear and hasn’t bothered to pick this thread off the top of his jacket or point out the grease smudge on the back of his neck. Currently, he’s going home alone.” 

Sarah saw Sherlock type something into his phone behind his back. “Also, he’s a comics and sci-fi geek. They’re always tremendously grateful – really put the hours in.”

“Greg, the gents,” Jareth hissed.

“Why?” Lestrade said. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s your turn,” Jareth said.

Greg looked down at his phone at a message he had just received. “Yeah, actually, now you mention it...” Lestrade stood up and left the room.

“Sherlock, any chance of a… an end date for this speech? Got to cut the cake,” John said.

Sherlock was smiling manically as he started going up and down the tables again. “Oh! Ladies and gentlemen, John can’t stand it when I finally get the chance to speak for once, Vatican Cameos.”

John straightened up immediately. Sarah began unfastening the iron dagger she had kept hidden under her dress. Jareth was already making his way out the door.

Mary said, “What did he say? What’s that mean?”

“Battle stations. Someone’s going to die,” John said.

“What?” Mary said. John took her hand to try to reassure her.

Sherlock looked ready to break down. His eyes were tightly shut. Then he slapped himself twice. “NO! Not you! Not you!” Sherlock took a breath and pointed to John. He made his way to the groom. “You. It’s always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

John stood up. “What do I do?”

“Well, you’ve already done it. Don’t solve the murder. Save the life,” Sherlock said. He turned to the guests with a manic grin. “Sorry. Off a bit. Back now. Phew! Let’s play a game. Let’s play Murder.”

Sarah squeezed John’s hand for a moment. “He’ll solve it.”

Sherlock was back to pacing. “Imagine someone’s going to get murdered at a wedding. Who exactly would you pick?”

“I think you’re a popular choice at the moment, dear,” Mrs. Hudson snarked.

“If someone could move Mrs. Hudson’s glass just slightly out of reach, that would be lovely,” Sherlock said, “More importantly, who could you only kill at a wedding? Most people you can kill any old place. As a mental exercise, I’ve often planned the murder of friends and colleagues. Now John I’d poison. Sloppy eater – dead easy. I’ve given him chemicals and compounds that way. He’s never even noticed. He missed a whole Wednesday once, didn’t have a clue. Lestrade is so easy to kill, it’s a miracle no-one has succumbed to the temptation. Sarah you just need to put someone she loves in danger and she will throw herself on the sword with a smile on her face. I’ve got a pair of keys to my brother’s house. I could easily break in there and asphyxiate him.” Sherlock shook his hands and then paused, “...if, if the whim arose.”

Tom made a comment to Molly that resulted in him getting stabbed in the hand with a plastic fork.

Sherlock continued. “So, once again, who could you only kill here? Clearly it’s a rare opportunity, so it’s someone who doesn’t get out much. Someone for whom a planned social encounter known about months in advance is an exception. Has to be a unique opportunity. And since killing someone in public is difficult killing them in private isn’t an option. Someone who lives in an inaccessible or unknown location, then. Someone private, perhaps, obsessed with personal security. Possibly someone under threat.” Sherlock grabbed a name card from a table and scribbled a note. “Ooh! A recluse, small household staff. High turnover for additional security.” He tossed the card aside with fake nonchalant to Major Sholto. “Probably all signed confidentiality agreements. There is another question that remains, however – a big one, a huge one: how would you do it? How would you kill someone in public? There has to be a way. This has been planned.”

Archie jumped up and down. “Mr. Holmes! Mr. Holmes!”

Sherlock turned and faced Archie, focusing all of his attention on the young child. “Oh, hello again, Archie. What’s your theory? Get this right and there’s a headless nun in it for you.”

“The invisible man could do it,” Archie said.

Sherlock spoke at high speeds. “The who, the what, the why, the when, the where?”

“The invisible man with the invisible knife. The one who tried to kill the Guardsman,” Archie said.

Sherlock gasped and straightened up. _He’s solved the case._ Major Sholto made his way out of the room and Sarah followed.

Lestrade waved to Sarah. “Jareth is checking the perimeter for traps.”

“Got it,” Sarah said. She ran up to Sholto and announced herself so as not to surprise him. “Major Sholto! Sarah Williams.”

Major Sholto paused. He assessed Sarah in her bridesmaid dress, bare feet, and small dagger in her right hand. “I know who you are.” He passed Sherlock’s note to her.

It read, “It’s you. SW will help.”

“You were an American army nurse several years ago,” Sholto said as he made his way up the stairs to his room, “You come highly recommended.”

“Yes, sir. Still a nurse. I am Jareth’s partner in crime-solving now,” Sarah said, “We will stop whoever is coming after you.”

Major Sholto opened the door to his hotel room and allowed Sarah in. He locked the door behind them, laid his sword on the bed, and then opened his suitcase.

“Jareth and Sherlock will solve, hello, gun,” Sarah said.

Major Sholto sat down in a chair by his bed. “Always be prepared. You know why someone is coming after me, I assume.”

Sarah nodded and spoke quietly. “You took new recruits on a training exercise and you were attacked. You were the only one to survive. There have already been several attempts on your life and a call for you to be dishonorably discharged.”

Sholto said just as quietly, “Then why bother with me, Nurse Williams?”

“I’m a nurse, sir. My job is to save as many people as I can, no matter who they are.” She sat on the bed. “Something similar happened to me. It was only because the Laby… a higher power decided I should live that I am here today.”

“My higher power is the devil,” Sholto hissed, “It is nothing but misery to have outlived my men.”

Someone rattled the locked door handle. Sherlock said, “Major Sholto? Major Sholto!” He began banging at the door. “Major Sholto!”

“If someone’s about to make an attempt on my life, it won’t be the first time. I’m ready,” Major Sholto said.

“Major, let us in,” John said.

“Kick the door down,” Mary said.

“I really wouldn’t,” Major Sholto said, “I have a gun in my hand and a lifetime of unfortunate reflexes.”

“I can open it for you,” Sarah said.

“I would just shove you out and lock myself in,” Major Sholto said.

“Then I won’t leave,” Sarah said.

“Where’s my wife you bastards?” Jareth growled.

“I’m safe Jareth,” Sarah said.

Sarah could hear a small commotion outside. Mary said, “Don’t worry, Sarah. Jareth is by my side.”

_Good. Jareth won’t be as willing to give Mary a black eye to get to me._

Sherlock spoke again. “You’re not safe in there. Whoever is after you, we know that a locked room doesn’t stop him.”

“The invisible man with the invisible knife,” Major Sholto quoted. 

“I don’t know how he does it, so I can’t stop him, and that means he’ll do it again,” Sherlock said.

“Solve it, then,” Sholto ordered.

“Is he serious?” Jareth growled.

“I’m sorry?” Sherlock asked.

“I have two detectives at my door. Solve the case. On you go,” Sholto said, “Tell me how he did it and I’ll open the door.”

John pleaded, “Please, this is no time for games. Just let us in! You’re in danger!”

“So are you, so long as you’re here,” Major Sholto said. He spoke to Sarah, “Please, leave me. Despite my reputation, I really don’t approve of collateral damage.”

“I don’t approve of collateral damage either. They can do it,” Sarah said.

“Solve it,” Mary commanded.

“Sorry?” Sherlock said.

“Solve it, and he’ll open the door, like he said,” Mary asked.

“If I couldn’t solve it before, how can I solve it now?” Sherlock hissed.

“Because it matters now,” Mary said.

“What are you talking about? What’s she talking about? Get your wife under control,” Sherlock said.

“She’s right,” Jareth said.

“Oh, you’ve changed!” Sherlock said.

“No, she is right,” John said, “Shut up. You are not a puzzle-solver – you never have been. You’re a drama queen that makes the glittery git next to my wife look calm. Now, there is a man in there about to die. Solve it!”

There was a moment of silence as Sherlock thought the case over. “Though, in fairness, he’s a drama queen too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mary said.

“Major Sholto, no one’s coming to kill you. I’m afraid you’ve already been killed several hours ago,” Sherlock said.

“What?” Sholto and Sarah said at the same time.

“Don’t take off your belt,” Sherlock said.

“My belt?” Major Sholto asked.

“His belt, yes. Bainbridge was stabbed hours before we even saw him, but it was through his belt,” Sherlock said.

Jareth suddenly piped in, “Tight belt, worn high on the waist. Very easy to push a small blade through the fabric and you wouldn’t even feel it. A very fine blade. I would love to see it.”

Sarah would have laughed at the sound of Jareth being smacked if the situation was less dire.

John said, “The belt would bind the flesh together when it was tied tight and when you took it off...”

“Delayed action stabbing. All the time in the world to create an alibi,” Sherlock said. He shook the door handle again. “Major Sholto?”

“So – I was to be killed by my uniform. How appropriate,” Major Sholto said. He stood up.

“He solved the case, Major. You’re supposed to open the door now. A deal is a deal,” Mary said.

“I’m not even supposed to have this anymore. They gave me special dispensation to keep it. I couldn’t imagine life out of this uniform. I suppose – given the circumstances – I don’t have to,” Major Sholto said. He tossed aside the pistol. “When so many want you dead, it hardly seems good manners to argue.” He began to unclip his belt.

“Stop it,” Sarah said, “John is right out there. He can fix you up until we can get you to the hospital. You don’t have to die.”

John said, “Whatever you’re doing in there, James, stop it, right now. I will kick this door down.”

Major Sholto turned his head towards the door. “Mr. Holmes, you and I are similar, I think.”

“Yes, I think we are,” Sherlock said.

“There’s a proper time to die, isn’t there?” Sholto said.

“Of course there is,” Sherlock said.

“And one should embrace it when it comes – like a soldier,” Major Sholto said.

“Sir, please,” Sarah said.

Sherlock said firmly, “Of course one should, but not at John’s wedding. We wouldn’t do that, would we – you and me? We would never do that to John Watson.”

Major Sholto closed his eyes. He then looked at Sarah. “Not today, Nurse Williams.” He opened the door. “I believe I am in need of medical attention.”

“I believe I am your doctor,” John said. He escorted Major Sholto to the bed to examine him with Mary close behind.

Sarah went into the hallway and took a deep breath before she pressed roughly into the wall by Jareth. He began kissing her frantically, his hands not staying still. “Safe,” he kept saying over and over again. 

Sarah kissed him and stroked his back. “Safe,” she confirmed. 

Jareth went to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist while he rested his head against her stomach. “Safe and sound.”

Sarah was reminded of him kneeling like this to her after he had figured out Irene’s password. The way he held her when Moriarty had left them at the pool. When they thought they were going to die in the bomb laced Tube car. _My Jareth._

Sherlock was in the hallway with a dazed look. 

“Thank you, Sherlock,” Sarah said.

Sherlock nodded. “You’re welcome. I think it is safe to say that this was a Baker Street Regular effort.”

“Is that what we are calling ourselves now?” Sarah asked.

Jareth kissed Sarah’s stomach again before standing up again. He pulled Sarah against his chest and kissed the top of her head.

“Maybe we should have name. A regular crime fighting family. I solved the case,” Sherlock said, “Jareth was ready to knock down the door. You and John talked Major Sholto down. Mary remembered what room Sholto was staying in. Lestrade manned the doors. Mrs. Hudson fussed. Molly kept the busybodies shut-up. I think we could make something of that.”

Sarah smiled. “I think we could. Sherlock, I need you to call an ambulance. Major Sholto will need surgery. Jareth, I need you to go deal with the guests. I need to help John and Mary. I am trained for this sort of thing.”

Jareth kissed Sarah. “As you command, my Champion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To quote the Doctor, “JUST THIS ONCE, EVERYBODY LIVES!”


	9. Chapter IX: You Can Dance If You Want To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was inspired by “The Thin White Sleuth…” by Pika-la-Cynique (http://pika-la-cynique.deviantart.com/art/The-Thin-White-Sleuth-277488920) of Girls Next Door fame. 
> 
> Transcript by Ariane DeVere aka Callie Sullivan (http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/65379.html).

Major Sholto had been taken to the hospital for surgery, but was expected to make a full recovery. (Surprisingly to the EMTs, but not to those who knew, it seemed that Sholto’s wound had healed slightly.) The guests were waiting for the bride and groom to appear for the last major event of the night: dancing.

Jareth helped Sarah adjust her hair so it would look more presentable after the day’s events. Sarah checked her make-up in the bathroom mirror. “I thought you knew what the plan was. Sherlock knew the goblins would come if I was in danger and we hoped that they would protect Sholto from whatever would come.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Sarah’s neck. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I’ll try not to,” Sarah said.

Jareth spun Sarah around and kissed her deeply. It was a leisurely exploration of her mouth and Sarah returned his desire. She broke off the kiss, but barely moved their mouths apart. “We have to see the bride and groom dance, Jareth.”

“Dancing. Hmmm… I shall allow it,” Jareth said.

Jareth escorted her into the hallway outside of the dining room now dance hall. Sarah asked, “How did Sherlock know the Mayfly Man was connected?”

“Tessa called John by his full name. The only people who knew that were those who received the invitation. Sherlock guessed that all of the women who the Mayfly Man contacted were connected to whoever was the intended murder victim.”

“Clever.”

“He generally is.”

They saw Sherlock do a fantastic spin for Janine. The two spoke for a moment. Jareth heard the end of the conversation.

Janine said, “I wish you weren’t... whatever it is you are.”

“I know,” Sherlock said.

John came over to where the group was standing. He said, “Well, glad to see you’ve pulled it off, Sherlock, what with murderers running riot at my wedding.”

“One murder - one nearly murderer,” Sherlock said before saying to Janine, “Loves to exaggerate. You should try living with him.”

Lestrade came in from the front entrance, the photographer with him. “Sherlock? Got him for you.”

Sherlock clapped his hands with glee. “Ah, the photographer. Excellent! Thank you. May I have a look at your camera?”

Jareth grinned as he realized what was happening. _What a clever idea. Unfortunately, an unwise, clever idea._

The photographer looked at Sherlock suspiciously as he handed over the camera. “What’s this about? I was halfway home.”

“You should have driven faster,” Sherlock said as he began going through the pictures, “Ah, yes. Yes, very good. There, you see? Perfect.”

“What is? Are you going tell us?” Lestrade asked.

Sherlock passed the camera to Lestrade. “Try looking yourself.”

Sarah looked with Lestrade. She said, “Um, look for what? Is the murderer in these photographs?”

“It’s not what’s in the photographs; it’s what’s not in them – not in any of them,” Sherlock said.

“The showing-off thing: we’ve discussed it before,” John said.

Sherlock took the camera again. “There is always a man at a wedding who is not in any photograph, but can go anywhere. Even carry an equipment bag around with him if he likes, and you never even see his face. You only ever see the camera.” He quickly handcuffed the photographer to the baggage trolley by them.

“What are you doing? What is this?” the photographer said.

Sherlock held up his phone. “Jonathan Small, today’s substitute wedding photographer – known to us as the Mayfly Man. His brother was one of the raw recruits killed in that incursion. Johnny sought revenge on Sholto, worked his way through Sholto’s staff, found what he needed an invitation to a wedding – the one time Sholto would have to be out in public. So, he made his plan and rehearsed the murder making sure of every last detail.”

Jonathan was oddly calm for someone being accused of attempted murder.

“Brilliant, ruthless, almost certainly a monomaniac – though, in fairness, his photographs are actually quite good,” Sherlock said. He gave the camera to Lestrade. “Everything you need is on that. You probably ought to... arrest him or something.”

Mary came over to John as she was trying to find him. She did not even raise an eyebrow at the handcuffed man. 

Janine said to Sherlock, “Do you always carry handcuffs?”

“Down, girl,” Sherlock teased.

“Come on, quick!” Mary said. John put his arm around her.

“It’s not me you should be arresting, Mr. Holmes,” Jonathan Small said.

“Oh, I don’t do the arresting. I just farm that out,” Sherlock said.

Jonathan Small grinned manically, though it began to fade the more he talked. “Sholto – he’s the killer, not me. I should have killed him quicker. I shouldn’t have tried to be clever.”

Jareth whispered, “You should have driven faster.” He grinned and showed his goblin teeth, causing Jonathan to have a small fright.

Sherlock took Janine’s arm and led the way to the dance hall. 

“Shakespeare would be pleased,” Sarah said to Jareth as they followed Mary and John.

“Why ever so?” Jareth said.

“Because this story started out as a tragedy and ended up a comedy. A very Shakespearian thing to do I should think,” Sarah said.

“And no comedy is complete without a wedding,” Jareth said as he realized her train of thought.

Sarah jumped slightly to kiss his cheek. “My clever husband. You figured it out before Sherlock, didn’t you?”

“No,” Jareth said, “About the same time. He had a bit of a head start.”

“You let him solve it so he knew he could do it without you,” Sarah stated.

“You make me sound like a sentimental old man,” Jareth said.

“You are a sentimental old man.”

Jareth said nothing, as denying it would a lie.

&%&%&%

Jareth tapped the rhythm of Sherlock’s waltz against Sarah’s belly. He knew logically the baby could not hear the music or feel the tapping, but it made him feel closer to his son. Sherlock was playing a soft waltz on his violin while Mary and John had their first dance. At the end of the song, John dipped Mary, surprising her by the grace of the move.

The guests cheered. Janine directed her applause to Sherlock, letting out several whoops of praise. Sherlock took the buttonhole flower he had taken off for the song and tossed it to his new friend.

Sherlock came up to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, just one last thing before the evening begins properly. Apologies for earlier. A crisis arose and was dealt with. More importantly, however, today we saw two people make vows. I’ve never made a vow in my life, and after tonight I never will again. So, here in front of you all, _my first and last vow_. Mary and John: whatever it takes, whatever happens, from now on I swear I will always be there, always, for all three of you. Er, I’m sorry, I mean, I mean two of you. All two of you. Both of you, in fact. I’ve just miscounted. Anyway, it’s time for dancing. Play the music again, please, thank you.” 

_…What!?! SHERLOCK DID NOT JUST SAY THAT!_

The song “December, 1963 (Oh What a Night)” began to play. Sherlock said, “Okay, everybody, just dance. Don’t be shy! Dancing, please! Very good!”

Sherlock rushed to where Mary and John were standing while Sarah and Jareth did the same.

“Sorry, that was one more deduction than I was really expecting,” Sherlock said.

“You have that right, Sherlock” Jareth said.

Sherlock stared at Mary intently. “Increased appetite, change of taste perception, and you were sick this morning. You assumed it was just wedding nerves. You got angry with me when I mentioned it to you. All the signs are there.”

“The signs?” Mary said.

Sherlock looked at John, then at Mary, and then at her abdomen. “The signs of three.”

“What?” Mary said.

“Mary, I think you should do a pregnancy test,” Sherlock said.

John almost fainted but then began grinning like the proper idiot that he was. Mary had never looked happier. Jareth and Sarah tried not to begin dancing about. 

“How did he notice before me? I’m a bloody doctor,” John said.

“It’s your day off,” Jareth said.

“It’s everyone’s day off!” John snarked.

“Stop panicking,” Sarah said as she laughed.

“I’m not panicking,” John said.

“I’m pregnant; I’m panicking,” Mary said.

Sherlock stood to his full height. “Don’t panic. None of you panic. Absolutely no reason to panic.”

“Oh, and you’d know, of course?” John said.

“Yes, I would. You’re already the best parents in the world. Look at all the practice you’ve had!” Sherlock said.

“What practice?” John said.

“Him,” Jareth and Sarah said just as Sherlock said, “Me.”

“Besides,” Jareth said, “if you are ever in need of slightly dubious babysitters, I know of a soon-to-be-Goblin-King who would be more than willing to send out his subjects to help you two.”

John punched Jareth in the arm. “Bloody hell. Our kid is going to be babysat by fairy tales.”

“Well, you’re hardly going need me around now that you’ve got a real baby on the way,” Sherlock said.

Mary and John were caught up in each other while Jareth and Sarah let them enjoy the moment.

“Shouldn’t you lot be dancing?” Sherlock said, “We can’t just stand here. People will wonder what we’re talking about.”

Jareth pulled Sarah into his arms and began to sway. “I thought you would never let us.”

“And what about you?” Mary asked.

“Well, we can’t all three dance. There are limits!” John said.

Sherlock agreed.

Mary was teary-eyed. “Come on, husband. Let’s go.”

“This isn’t a waltz, is it?” John said, making Mary laugh.

“Don’t worry, Mary, I have been tutoring him,” Sherlock said.

“He did, you know. Baker Street, behind closed curtains,” Sarah said.

John began dancing with his wife. “Mrs. Hudson came in one time. Don’t know how those rumors started!”

Jareth sighed and rested his head against Sarah’s. “This has been far too exciting of a wedding.”

“I must agree. I think it is safe to say that on the ‘excitement’ front, John and Mary have us beat.” She began to look around and frowned. “I lost the best man. Do you see him? The lanky detective is kind of hard to miss.”

Jareth looked around as well and did not see Sherlock anywhere. “Hmmm… possibly the loo but…”

“It’s Sherlock. He’s sulking,” Sarah said, “Come on. Let’s go find him.”

As predicted, Sherlock was moping outside. He was wearing his coat with the collar popper up and was walking away from the reception,

“You owe me a dance, Sherlock,” Sarah said.

Sherlock turned back. “Do I?”

“Of course you do,” Sarah said, “It’s traditional.”

“No, it’s not,” Sherlock said.

“Yes, it is. A new tradition. Every time the two of us are at a wedding, we’ll dance together. Got that?” Sarah said.

Sherlock glanced over at Jareth and they both smiled slightly. “Are wives always this assertive?” Sherlock asked.

“If you have not realized that Sarah gets her way at this point, I have lost all hope in your magnificent little brain,” Jareth said.

&%&%&%

Sherlock stayed for another hour, having a dance with all of the ladies he knew and doing the Electric Slide with a ridiculous happy John Watson. (Jareth could claim innocence when “Honey and the Bee” by Owl City started playing when Sherlock and Molly danced. His wife on the other hand…) Sarah was exhausted from the day’s events, so the residents of 221 Baker Street had a valid excuse to go home a bit earlier than the rest of the party.

In the taxi, Jareth said, “You shouldn’t have been on your feet all day. The baby might get hurt if you keep doing that.”

Sarah glared at Jareth. “Are you carrying this baby?”

Jareth was silent as he thought the question over. _Is this a trick question?_

“Answer me,” Sarah said.

Sherlock looked back at Jareth and gave a look of pity.

“No, I am not carrying the child,” Jareth said.

“Then you get to keep your mouth shut. Just because you donated a microscopic amount of DNA does not mean that you suddenly have power over me.”

Jareth felt ill. Sarah was looking at him with a mixture of anger and something that he had seen from her since his return.

Fear. She’s scared.

“Precious…”

“I do not want to talk right now,” Sarah said.

The rest of the ride home was silent and unpleasant. When they reached 221, Sherlock and Jareth made sure Mrs. Hudson made it safely to her room. Sherlock waved to Jareth before going down to 221C. Sarah had already made her way up to 221B.

Jareth leaned against the bathroom door frame. He watched Sarah clean off the last bit of make-up before she began unpinning her hair. She shook out her hair and then messaged her scalp with a groan.

“Do you need help with the dress?” Jareth asked.

“I would rather sleep in it,” Sarah said sharply.

“I wasn’t trying…”

“Ha! You’ve been trying all day,” Sarah said. She pushed past him to their bedroom. “I am sick of it, Jareth.” She threw herself onto the bed and curled up on her side, her back facing Jareth.

“I truly was not trying. I am merely concerned,” Jareth said. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to touch Sarah reassuringly.

“Don’t,” she said.

Jareth rested his hands on his lap and watched Sarah’s breathing for a few moments. Her shoulders were shaking and her breathing was uneven.

“Sarah, what have I done to hurt you?” Jareth asked.

“Nothing,” Sarah choked.

_She’s crying. Damn it. I made her cry._

“Obviously, I have done something.”

“You have… done nothing wrong.”

Jareth hazarded to touch Sarah’s shoulder. She did not flinch so he lay behind her and pulled her against his chest.

“Oh, precious, what have I done to you?”

“It’s not you. I know it’s not you.”

“Then what is it?”

Sarah was choking back tears. “It’s me.”

“What’s happened?”

“I’m being a silly little girl.”

“I doubt that,” Jareth said.

Sarah shook her head. “I keep thinking… it’s so stupid. I just… you always need something new and I can’t. I can’t do it. You’re… you’re going to forget me after the baby is born. I won’t be a mystery anymore.”

Jareth turned Sarah onto her back. “Who said that to you?”

“No one,” Sarah said.

“The idea then,” Jareth said, “It was Titania, wasn’t it?”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “How did you know that I have been…”

“I am a detective, Sarah. There are not many who would be able to make Joanna fetch you,” Jareth said.

Sarah began crying in earnest. Jareth sat the both of them up. He rubbed her back and made soothing noises. He took off his gloves with his teeth so he could better calm his wife. He let his left hand hold her steady around her waist while his right tangled in her hair.

“You are not a mystery to solve. You are a person. You are a person who loves so deeply it hurts. If I have ever caused you doubt, I am sorry with every part of my being.”

“I am sorry. I am so sorry,” Sarah said, “I’m being stupid.”

“You are not,” Jareth said, “I am not the most stable of men. I move from one thing to another. But you have seen me with my family. Do you think I have grown weary of them?”

Sarah shook her head. 

Jareth tilted her chin up and locked his eyes with her. “I love you and will do so for forever.”

Sarah kissed him and shoved him down on the bed. “You are wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Jareth said with a smirk.

She lay on top of him, propped up on her elbows as she kissed him slowly and passionately. “Mine.”

“Entirely,” Jareth said, “Do not keep these things from me, Sarah.”

“Only if you do the same.”

Jareth raised a slanted eyebrow.

Sarah smiled softly. “Something has been bothering you. Something to do with a case.”

“It’s not a case. Not yet. I had been pondering this question for a while before a client came to me with the same issue I was wondering about before the stag party.”

“Why are you hesitating to take it?”

“… Do you remember when you told me the morning after the stag night to not do something stupid without telling you first?” Jareth asked.

Sarah nodded. “Of course.”

“I want to take on a case that will take everything I know and have. I will never be able to succeed without you, my Champion.”

Sarah kissed his right palm before placing his hand against her cheek. “What is it?”

And so Jareth began to tell his plan for his last trick as a detective before becoming the Goblin King again.

“His name is Charles Augustus Magnussen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Since this particular story is over, I can tell you, dear readers, about my feelings on my episode. 
> 
> “The Sign of Three” is the best Sherlock episode and one of the best episodes in television history. Writing this scared the crud out of me more than just about anything else I have ever written. It took me almost two weeks to work out how to plot this (when the other episodes took about a day at the most). I hope that this has been an entertaining read. Thank you for reading.
> 
> Thank you for reading! The next story will be “His Last Trick” A.K.A. “His Last Vow”.


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